It's Love in the Library
by The-Other-Ghostwriter
Summary: Slash.  Danny is in danger of failing his senior year, and enlists in the help of a reluctant tutor to help him out. Sparks fly, heads roll, and book reports are eaten by ghost dogs.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, kiddies! It's that time again! Danny Phantom Slash Pairing Numbuh 3. Enjoy.**

* * *

If there was one thing that Danny hated about superhero work, he thought bitterly as he glared at the top of his desk, it was how little time he had to spend on schoolwork.

He was just starting his senior year of high school, and he was lucky to have made it that far to begin with. He bad scraped by last year by the skin of his teeth with mostly Cs and Ds, and was advised-or, rather threatened by Lancer-that if he didnt pull his grades up to make a good-enough score on the ACTs (the evil twin brother of the CATs), then he could say goodbye to college. And for once, Danny didnt take offense to what the English teacher said. He knew that Lancer was right, but that didnt make it any easier. His worst classes were English, Mathematics, History, and Creative Writing; that last class he chose just to pull some much-needed credits in, but even so, he didnt have time to do the work in that class, either.

Danny let out a groan and flunked his head on his desk, feeling like setting his schoolbooks on fire. He really didnt need this kind of pressure right now; it was pretty much implied that if he didnt pass with As and Bs this year, then he wouldnt be graduating with his class. But between studying, keeping a secret identity, chasing Vlad away from his mother, and kicking some ghost ass-or tail, whichever the case may be-there were simply not enough hours in the day. Not enough time...

He lifted his head off of his desk. Time... That gave him an idea.

* * *

If there was one person he could count on to listen to his problems, it was Clockwork. The Master of Time had the patience of a saint when it came to the halfa, and was always willing to give up an hour or two of his time to help Danny clear his head. The old ghost nodded and listened intently to Danny as the halfa talked about his concerns for his future-the future that Clockwork had given him another shot at. When Danny finished talking, Clockwork handed him a glass bottle of soda (where the heck did he pull this stuff from anyway?) and Danny guzzled it, feeling a little better.

"I just dont know what to do," Danny finished, holding the empty bottle in his hands. Clockwork made a thoughtful sound.

"You have several options," he replied. "The first would be to completely give up on ghost fightig altogether." At Danny's horrified look, he continued. "The second would be to give up school." That sounded even worse than the first one. "The third would be to get yourself a tutor; someone know knows about your situation and can help you focus and learn to prioritize."

Danny relaxed a little at that last suggestion; it sounded good, to be honest. But who did he know that was incredibly talented in all academic areas, knew his situation, and had the time to tutor him? Jazz was out; she was too busy working on her psychiatric degree on the other end of the States. "...That last one SOUNDS good," he said, runnin a hand through his hair. "...But it sounds TOO good. I dont know anyone who fits all of those qualifications."

Clockwork gave him a knowing smile. "I do," he replied. "He's a master at prioritizing, and incredibly intelligent. He can help you pull all of your grades up the first term, guaranteed. That is, if you're willing to work for it."

Danny nodded vigorously; he NEEDED those good grades. "I'm willing," he replied firmly. Clockwork's smile broadened.

"Come back here on Monday after school," he said. "Your tutor will be waiting."

"Thank you, Clockwork!" Danny exclaimed, resisting the urge to hug the Master of Time. Clockwork affectionately ruffled Danny's hair and sent the young halfa on his way home.

"Oh...dont thank me yet, young Daniel," he muttered to himself, vanishing out of his clock tower to pay someone a visit.

* * *

"IT'S DONE, FINALLY!"

The Ghostwriter held up a newly-finished book dramatically, happy that his new novel was FINALLY finished. It had taken four months and six rewrites to get it just right. He flew up to a shelf and carefully slid the book into a free slot, smiling as it glowed slightly. In just a few short days, his new book would be on the shelves of all the bookstores in the mortal world, and he was sure it would be a best-seller. He heaved a sigh and sat down on his couch, flexing his fingers to get the kinks out and picking up a book to read; tonight, it would be Tolkien.

"Hello, Ghostwriter."

The Ghostwriter shot up, his book nearly going airborne as he whipped around to see Clockwork hovering right behind him. He heaved a sigh and put hit book down. "Dont DO that!" he snapped. "You'll be the second death of me if you keep doing that!" Clockwork smiled apologetically.

"My apologies," he replied. "I had no intention of scaring you. I actually came to ask you for a favor." Ghostwriter perked up a little; Clockwork had been something of his mentor when he had first come to the Ghost Zone, and as long as the Master of Time didnt keep scaring the daylight savings time out of him, he was happy to do anything for him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, sitting back down.

"I want to hire you as a tutor to...my protoge, you might say," he said. "He's an academically wayward boy who needs your organizational and educational skills." Ghostwriter arched a brow. "Oh, make no mistake, he's an intelligent boy," Clockwork continued. "But if he's to succeed, he needs help, and you're without a doubt the best man for the job."

Ghostwriter crossed his arms, thinking it over. "...Alright," he replied. "On one condition..."

"The missing pages of da Vinci's journals? Done." Ghostwriter smiled.

"So, who is the little wayward soul I'm meant to tutor?" he asked, picking Tolkien back up again.

"Danny Phantom."

The book slipped from Ghostwriter's hands and fell to the floor.

* * *

Danny could barely keep his focus durings school; it wasnt just that he was anxious to see who Clockwork got to tutor him, but also because he kept waiting for his ghost sense to go off at any moment. It was a paranoia that had developed that never really went away and although it was useful in keeping his reflexes sharp, it was an annoying distraction Danny wished he could get rid of.

Finally, the bell rang and Danny flew home immediately, calling his parents to tell them that he would be at the library, then instead flying into the Fenton Portal and to Clockwork's clock tower. He knocked politely, just as he always had, and Clockwork opened the door, smiling. "Good afternoon, Daniel," he said, letting Danny inside. "Did you bring your schoolbooks?"

"Yes, Sir," Danny replied, holding up his backpack. Clockwork nodded.

"Good," he replied,leading Danny up the stairs. "Now, I must tell you, Daniel, that the tutor I have for you is someone you dont have the best interaction with; however, he is the best and I want you to make a genuine effort with him. Can you do that?"

Danny nodded; if Clockwork actually went through the trouble to actually ask the person to tutor him, the LEAST he could do was cooperate. Clockwork smiled at Danny and led him through the door. Sitting down at a large table with what looked like a cup of coffee was the Ghostwriter.

...Somehow, Danny wasnt that surprised; someone who lived in a library and never left for anything HAD to be intelligent. Still, Clockwork was right; he hadnt had any interaction with him since the Christmas fiasco four years ago. ...On the other hand, thanks to Ghostwriter, he was enjoying the holidays more and appreciating his family and friends better... He just hoped Ghostwriter had forgiven him for destroying his poem...

Ghostwriter looked up when Clockwork entered the room with Danny, and couldnt prevent the scowl from appearing on his face. He STILL couldnt believe that he had been roped into tutoring the little urchin. And Clockwork had called this boy intelligent? From his experience, the kid was a few wicks short of a candelabra. But still, he had da Vinci's notebook papers within his grasp, and he wasnt going to let THOSE slip through his fingers. He gave Danny a curt nod as the halfa sat down across the table from him and gave him a nervous smile.

"I'll leave you boys alone," Clockwork said, grinning at the twin looks of horror from the two men in front of him. "Try not to ruin my tower." With that, he vanished.

Danny looked over at Ghostwriter, who was eyeing Danny like he was EXPECTING the halfa to start something. 'Well,' he thought, 'might as well break the ice...' "...Um...hi," he said awkwardly.

Ghostwriter arched a brow; my, how four years could change a person; the kid no longer sounded like a prepubescent boy. In fact, his voice combined with his still-boyish face was just...creepy, to say the least. "Hi," he replied disinterestedly. "What are your subjects?" he asked, trying to get this two hours with as quickly as possible.

Danny quickly dug into his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper with his typed subjects and where the grades currently standed with each, and slid it over to Ghostwriter. The novelist picked the paper up and looked it over, his eyes widening with shock. WHY had Clockwork called this kid intelligent when the ONLY classes he was passing were Chemistry, Computer Science, and Phys. Ed.? He was about to roll over and die AGAIN at the Creative Writing and English grades. Two Ds! TWO!

The halfa noticed that Ghostwriter had acquired an interesting twitchin in his eye. Ghostwriter looked up from the paper, his green eyes flashing. "I have a question," he said tersely, "and answer me honestly. When was the last time you cracked a book open? Seriously."

'...That was just uncalled for,' Danny thought bitterly to himself. He scowled. "Yesterday," he replied, trying to keep the nastiness out of his voice. "We have to read 'Beowulf' for English class, and I finally had some off-time yesterday to read it."

"Really?" Ghostwriter said, putting the paper down. "Enlighten me, boy; how many pages did you get through?" Danny mumbled something incoherant. "What was that?"

"Three, alright!" Danny snapped. "Sunday was the only day this week I got any rest, and I spent most of it sleeping!" He folded his arms childishly on the table and put his head on them, scowling. Ghostwriter rubbed at his eyes under his glasses; this was going to be harder than he thought. He picked the paper back up and pulled a pen out of his pocket, then began writing things down on the paper.

Danny had History, English, Creative Writing, and Chemistry on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; and Computer Science, Phys. Ed., and Mathematics (Algebra II) on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It wasnt a hard schedule at all, to be honest. History, English, Creative Writing, and Algebra were Danny's worst subjects (three out of four ironically his top subjects). What intrigued him was Danny's passing low B in Chemistry; Chemistry included a lot of equations and numbers, and yet the boy was flunking Algebra (D-).

"You're terrible in Algebra," Ghostwriter commented. Danny scowled, but Ghostwriter ignored him. "You're literate, at least, so there's no reason for you to be flunking English. As for Creative Writing..." He shook his head. "I wont even go there. And History? It's remembering dates and what happened in those dates. Read a book. What time period are you studying?"

Danny ignored the commentary. "World War II," he replied. Ghostwriter's fingers clenched into the pen, a gesture Danny didnt fail to notice. "We dont go chronologically; we're skipping back to the French Revolution next month."

"Ridiculous," Ghostwriter muttered. "No wonder you're failing History; it should be taught chronologically. I'm quite sure foolish children nowadays cant tell the difference between the first two World Wars, if they take THAT approach." He pulled out a notebook from his satchel and began making notes. Danny sat in uncomfortable silence as Ghostwriter scribbled away. "What is your book list for English?" he asked after a moment.

Danny dug back into his bag and pulled out another sheet of paper that Lancer had given all of them and handed it to Ghostwriter.

"...'Beowulf', 'The Canterbury Tales', 'To Kill A Mockingbird', 'Odyssius', 'Hamlet', 'Moby Dick', and various poems and writings of Poe and Robert Frost." He sighed. "Starting low and working the way up to the hard things." He looked up at Danny. "Do you have these books with you?"

"No, we keep them at school," Danny said. "I only have 'Beowulf' at home because my sister had a copy of it." Ghostwriter scowled.

"How can they expect children to pass if they dont give the books out?" he asked himself. "Do they have copies at your library?"

"They're always checked out."

Huh, so the boy at least TRIED to find them. That was a start.

"Is it too late to erase and reinroll in classes?" he asked Danny. The halfa looked confused.

"Um...no, not really, but why...?"

"Drop Phys. Ed., you dont need it," Ghostwriter said. "Take up study hall instead. As for the books, I want you to go out and buy what's on your book list." Ignoring Danny's indignant stuttering, Ghostwriter wrote something else down and slid it over to Danny's side of the table. "Splurge on the complete works of Shakespear, Poe and Frost, it'll be worth it. I also want you to buy what's on this list; you need a planner, notebooks, pens, pensils, highlighters, and tabs."

Danny looked at the list, his head hurting from the calculations of what this was going to cost.

"You also need to do some extra work and reading," Ghostwriter went on, holding up his hand and making it glow a pinkish-purple. When the light faded, he was holding a small stack of books. He slid these over to Danny. "These will stay with me and will be used for tutoring only."

They were books on math theory and practice, History books on WWII and the French Revolution, and a book of practice subjects for Creative Writing. He gaped at Ghostwriter, who only stared back.

"From what Clockwork told me," he said, "you have no job and no prior responsibilities to keep you from your work. If you sacrifice meaningless free time in favor of studying and reviewing, then you will pass your courses with flying colors, I can guarantee it."

"But...I DO have other responsibilities!" Danny replied. Ghostwriter rolled his eyes.

"What, your ghost-fighting?" he asked. "Leave it to the Guys in White, the Red Hunter, and your parents. I'm sure they'll survive without you. If you're not getting paid to do it, then stop it. Passing your classes and graduating WILL pay off." He gave Danny a level stare. "We will meet for tutoring every day until the end of the term, then lessen it to three times a week after that. I dont HAVE to do this, you know; and I HATE having my efforts wasted for nothing."

Danny let out a shuddery sigh and looked down at his new responsibilities; it looked like a LOT. He would have to do a LOT of reading. But, what was it that Lancer said last year? Something about everything he needed to know was 90% reading? Yeah, that. He needed to make a decision now, and the mature decision would be to take Clockwork and Ghostwriter's advice and focus 99% on schoolwork; the other 1% on making sure the 99% didnt kill him.

"...Alright," Danny said, putting his new schedule changes and to-do list in his backpack. Ghostwriter nodded.

"Now, what's your homework for today?"

* * *

**Urgh...-dies- Chapter 1, done, and out!**


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Danny did when he got to school the next day was go straight to admissions and submit his class change from Phys. Ed. to study hall, effective immediately.

As he trudged towards Computer Science, he thought back to what happened at tutoring yesterday. His homework included questions to be answered in paragraph form about World War II's beginning, a Creative Writing assignment (they were covering poetry this semester), and Algebra II homework that he had been struggling with since last Thursday. Ghostwriter gave Danny an extra history book on WWII for the History homework and guided Danny through the math; he wasnt as good as Technus when it came to numbers, but he had always gotten As in math regardless, when he was alive. As for Creative Writing, he couldnt help Danny.

"It's supposed to be about your own creativity," he had told Danny. "I cant help you there."

After tutoring (Danny had to admit that Ghostwriter was surprisingly patient), Danny went home and summoned up the courage to ask his parents for school-shopping money. When they asked what for, Danny gave them the book list and the supply list, and they sort of understood; Danny had always gotten by with the bare minimum for school, and Jazz WAS always saying that Danny should be buying more. So they had put him on a budget and sent him to the mall.

First and foremost, Danny bought the first three books he would be needing for that year, and decided to buy the others sometime closer to their read dates. Then he used the rest of the money to buy his school supplies, and used what was left to pick up a journal that Jazz had been trying since he was twelve to invest in; if anything, it might help with his creative writing.

And now, here he was a day later, his backpack filled with his new things, the leftover homework he had saved for study hall, and his copy of 'Beowulf'. All he had to do was study and resist the urge to go after every ghost he saw; he could let Valerie handle that, if need be.

Computer Science was easy enough; he had hung around Tucker and outwitted Technus enough times to get through the class with ease. In study hall, which lasted a good two and a half hours, he managed his way through the rest of his Algebra II, then spent the rest of the time reading ahead in 'Beowulf', which was turning out to be surprisingly epic, even for Danny's standards. He was so engrossed in the book, he ignored two ghost senses and almost missed the lunch bell.

He met up with Sam and Tucker at their designated lunch table.

"Dude, where've you been, I didnt see you in Phys. Ed.," Tucker said, biting into his turkey-ham-and-roast-beef sandwich. Danny shrugged.

"Traded it in for study hall," he replied, pulling an orange out of his lunch bag. "I fight ghosts; I dont NEED Phys. Ed."

"Well, you DO need study hall," Sam commented, nibbling on a carrot. "After your grades last year, you NEED all the extra studying you can get."

"Yeah, about that..." Danny said, pulling the orange out of the skin using his ghost powers. "I'm cutting back on the ghost fighting. And I got a tutor." He bit into the orange and took a sip of his milk.

"Good for you, Danny!" Sam said.

"Aww, man," Tucker griped. "Ghost fighting is what makes school interesting."

"Well, it's either cut ghost fighting out, or cut graduation out. I'd like to graduate with you two, and to do that, I need to focus more on school." He polished off the orange and began on the two sandwiches he'd packed. While they ate, Tucker showed them a couple of videos he'd downloaded on his PDA and Sam talked about colleges she was planning on attending. The bell rang, and Danny sighed; it was off to Algebra II. At least he had his homework done...

All of a sudden, his ghost sense went off big time, but before he had a change to find a place to transform, he was barrelled over by a humongous green dog, and was attacked with ectosaliva-soaked doggy-kisses. "ARGH! DOWN, CUJO! DOWN!" The enormous dog got off of Danny obediently and sat back on his haunches, then turned back into the adorable (yeah effing right) puppy. Danny wiped the ecto-slobber off of his face and began putting his fallen items back into his backpack. "I dont have your ball, Cujo, but you'd better get out of here before Valerie spots you."

Cujo whimpered slightly; his adoptive master didnt want to play. His mischievous puppy instincts took over, and he darted forward and snatched up a small bundle of papers Danny was about to pick up and bolted out of the hallway.

"CUJO!" Danny shrieked. "BAD DOG! DROP IT!" He chased Cujo down the hallway until he lost sight of the puppy, then let out a frustrated groan and stomped toward the bathroom to wash his face off, hoping to God that what Cujo stole wasnt important.

...Of COURSE it was going to be important.

The damn puppy took his Algebra II homework.

* * *

The rest of the month passed without much incident.

Yeah, the school was invaded by several ghosts; Danny forced himself to stay in his seat and let Valerie handle it.

Sure, he was still walking on eggshells with Ghostwriter; other than his stupid homework, he and the novelist had nothing to talk about.

Okay, his performance in class had improved; in fact, he got a solid B+ on his Algebra II test, passed his History quizzes, and aced the 'Beowulf' exam. But it was still his creative writing that was suffering. He couldnt seem to focus on imagination when all this reality was punching him in the face.

It was the beginning of November, and Danny was headed to Clockwork's tower with his end-of-term grades in hand. He was actually quite proud of himself; he had an A in Computer Science, Bs in Chemistry, History, and English, and Cs in mathematics and Creative Writing. Clockwork showed him in, but didnt take him upstairs.

"I'm afraid that Ghostwriter is going to be late," he said. "He's working on a new novel right now, and he's having trouble pulling himself away from it, when he's on a roll like he is."

Danny understood; Tucker was the same way when it came to a new computer program, and Sam when she was sketching out new pictures. "...Should I just...you know...skip today?" he asked. The Master of Time gave him a smile.

"Not at all," he replied. "Why dont you go to his library? I know that he would feel more comfortable there than he has been here. He's most at ease when he's with his books."

"Oh...alright." Danny gave Clockwork a wave.

"And good job on those grades," Clockwork said. Danny gave him a knowing smile; if Clockwork said his grades would improve by the end of the term, then he meant it.

"Thanks." With that, Danny flew to Ghostwriter's library and knocked on the door. No answer. He tried again. Ditto. "Oh, come on..." he muttered to himself. Taking a gamble, he turned the handle and opened the door, poking his head in.

...The library was MASSIVE. It was SO much bigger inside than it looked outside. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him silently, and looked around. It looked as though every book that was written was inside of this place. Someone could spend a lifetime in here and not read everything that was in here. He walked around for a bit until he found Ghostwriter.

The novelist was indeed in the middle of work; he was furiously typing away at a laptop, taking his hands off the keyes just long enough to take a sip of what Danny was still sure was coffee. He didnt look up when Danny walked up to him, but instead jerked his head to his left.

"Just...sit and wait...be done in...minute..."

Danny quietly obeyed; common sense told him that disturbing the Ghostwriter in the middle of writing would reap disastrous results that might include another day of rhyming. He sat down on a couch and quietly put his things on the coffee table in front of him, then sat back and waited. And waited.

After ten minutes of nothing but the 'tick tick tap tap' of the keys, he finally grew bored and pulled out his Algebra II homework; he had a feeling that Ghostwriter would not be finishing up anytime soon.

Halfway through, he was gnawing at the end of his pencil in frustration; quadratic functions were giving him a hell of a time. He pulled out his notes and looked over them, but the teacher had been pretty vague about it. Damn, if only he had one of Ghostwriter's books about mathematic theory...

A book suddenly appeared in front of him, nearly causing him to cry out in shock. He looked around nervously, but Ghostwriter was still typing away, then took the book in his hands.

...Algebraic theory.

...This. Library. ROCKED! It KNEW what he needed! No wonder Ghostwriter loved it in here! He cracked open the book and looked up quadratic functions, and was heavily relieved when he found a thourough explaination for his problems, and managed to finish his homework in record time. He closed the Algebraic theory book, and it vanished, the library sensing the end of its use. Danny thought for a moment.

'...The French Revolution,' he thought.

Three large books-two of them in French-appeared in front of him. He took the one in English, and the other two vanished. Danny spent the next hour writing up the first draft of a report on Napoleon, then the book vanished.

'...Anything on pointers on creative writing?' he thought. A book appeared in his point of vision.

'Finding the Inspiration Within'.

Danny grinned; he might be able to write that poem that was due in by Monday TONIGHT! As he flipped through the book, he suddenly froze when he realized that he was...ENJOYING doing his homework.

...Scary.

...But not really, he thought in hindsight. With a library with every book you can imagine knowing JUST what you needed and could actually provide it, ANYTHING could come easy and fun to them. Keeping that in mind, he began looking through the book, seeing if he could find pointers on expressing 'What Thanksgiving means to you' in writing. If only he could just recite from mind; he was no good with written word when it came down to it. He couldnt even be lyrically creative enough to write fortune cookies.

After several drafts of failures, Danny tried to banish the book away, but it remained on him, almost insistant that it stay. 'Suit yourself,' he thought. ...He was talking to a freaking book, he realized. He looked over at Ghostwriter. Didnt that guy ever take a break! He supposed not. Danny leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.

'...Dont suppose you have Stephen King in here, do you, library?'

He opened his eyes to see dozens of books in front of him. '...Thank you?' He looked at the titles one by one, then selected 'IT'; if there was anyone who could scare him in word form, it was Stephen King. The rest of the books vanished, and Danny settled back to read.

* * *

**SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE: READ STEPHEN KING**

**Urgh, so...late...must...sleep...**


	3. Chapter 3

Ghostwriter finally typed out the ending of the chapter he was working on, then heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair, looking as though he had just run a marathon. But he smiled; he was on a roll today. He just might get this novel done by the end of the week, if he kept this pace up! He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug and took a sip, nearly spewing it out when he realized that it was cold. First things first-stretch his legs and get more coffee.

He stood up to head to the little kitchenette in the back of the library, and almost missed his extra visitor on the couch. He did a double-take and saw Danny lying on the couch, books and papers scattered on the coffee table and a book on his chest. He was asleep. Ghostwriter stared at him for a moment in confusion before checking his watch.

'Cask of Amontillado', it was nearly seven! He had completely forgotten about the boy's tutoring! He groaned and walked over to the sleeping halfa, who muttered something about 'evil clowns' and shifted around, the book nearly falling off of his chest. Ghostwriter summoned the book to him and looked at the title. Stephen King's 'IT'. One of his personal favorites. He mentally sent the book back to its place on its designated shelf, and looked at his coffee table.

Schoolbooks, completed homework, one of his own books, "Finding the Inspiration Within"; he grinned in a sense of satisfaction; the boy was capable of learning, it would seem. Danny even seemed to have utilized the library's powers on his own. He picked "Finding the Inspiration Within" and attempted to send it back to the shelf, but it stubbornly remained in his hand. Ghostwriter frowned; it wasnt like the library to take a liking to someone other than himself. Then again, the library found what one needed, and sent it to them. If the book was insistant on staying with Danny, it meant that Danny still needed it.

That would cause problems; Ghostwriter didnt trust his books outside the library, ESPECIALLY after what happened at Christmas four years ago... But he heard a soft voice in the back of his mind telling him that the book would be taken care of. His library had never lied before. Sighing, he packed the boy's bag for him, sliding "Finding the Inspiration Within" in with a quickly scribbled note saying that if anything happened to it, the next book Ghostwriter created would be bound in the halfa's skin. Then he gently nudged Danny.

"Wake up," he said. Danny turned over so his back was facing Ghostwriter.

"...Mhhh...five more minutes, Jazz, geeze..."

Who the hell was Jazz? Oh, right...the boy's sister. "I'm not Jazz, and you have to go home." He poked Danny's shoulder. "Now wake up."

This time, Danny sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"Seven PM."

"SHIT!" Danny bolted up and grabbed his backpack, not noticing that it was already backed, and rushed toward the door. "Thanks, Ghostwriter! Thanks, Library!" He flew out the door, leaving a bemused Ghostwriter alone in his library.

"...You're welcome...I think." He picked his coffee mug back up and headed back into the kitchen, swearing his library was laughing. On his way back to his desk, he noticed a piece of paper on the floor under the coffee table, and picked it up.

Danny's grades.

* * *

Danny managed to remember to transform back to human form before rushing into his house, where his parents were already seated for dinner. "Danny, where in the world have you been?" his mother demanded. Danny tried not to look guilty.

"I was at tutoring, Mom," he said.

"For three hours?" she asked, looking incredulous. Danny put his backpack down on the stairs and sat down for dinner.

"It's usually two, but I got caught up in reading...and fell asleep," he answered truthfully.

"Where in earth is this tutoring, anyway?" she asked. Danny made himself a plate; chicken and boiled potatoes tonight.

"The library." Still truthful.

"What were you reading?" his father asked, joining the conversation.

"Stephen King," Danny replied, smiling. "'IT'." His dad shuddered.

"That movie gave me the creeps," he replied. His mother gave him a smile.

"I'm so glad you've decided to focus more on schoolwork this year," she said. "I actually recieved a call from Mr. Lancer earlier today." Danny nearly choked on his milk.

"You did?" he asked. His mother nodded, giving him a warmer smile.

"And do you know what he said?" she asked. Danny shook his head, a little anxious at what Mr. Lancer could say; the last time he spoke to his parents, it was to warn them of Danny's immenent failure to graduate if he didnt get his act together.

"He told me that you passed the exam on 'Beowulf' with the highest score of 99."

Danny blinked. He knew that he got a 99 on the exam (a footnote by Lancer said Danny had lost that one point away from a 100, saying 'Work on your grammar'), but he had no idea that it was the highest score in his class.

"He also told me that if you continue to show such improvements in his class and in your other classes, he can give you a reference list of scholarships for you." His mother reached over to pet his lengthening hair. "Danny, I am so proud of you." His father gave him a whack on the back in congratulations that nearly knocked him out of his chair.

"Living up to the Fenton tradition of As and SOLID Bs!" he said. Danny gave them both smiles, feeling richer than Vlad on the inside. He was so close to all As and Bs, he could taste it. No more Ds. No more Fs. If he had his way, by the end of the semester in January, no more Cs, either. His hard work and Ghostwriter's tutoring was paying off, and he wanted more.

Wow. Tucker was right. Good grades ARE an addiction.

...Wow. Tucker was RIGHT.

He picked his fork back up and finished eating. The smile on his face didnt fade in the least all through dinner.

* * *

After dinner and dessert, Danny picked his backpack up and went upstairs; it was Friday, but he wanted to get that poem done quickly so he wouldnt have to rush it on Sunday. He had plans with Sam and Tucker tomorrow, too. He pulled his Creative Writing notebook out of his backpack and dug around for his pencil case when something caught his eye.

"Finding the Inspiration Within".

...Come to think of it, hadnt all of his school-things been on the coffee table when he fell asleep? Ghostwriter must've packed his things back up for him, and...even given him a book from his own library.

Danny held the book in his hands, noticing that it had a faint glow of ghostly energy around it. He had to be extra, extra careful with this. He opened it to the poetry section, and a piece of paper fell out.

'If this book is lost or damaged in any way, shape, or form, I will use your skin as the binding for my next novel. Have a nice weekend.' -GW.

Danny arched a brow. Yes. Definitely must be careful. He made sure anything that would damage the book by accident was cleared from his desk before putting it down and clicking his pen open.

* * *

He got a B- on the poem, but it was better than a C.

His Creative Writing teacher, a slighty barmy woman who looked like she had stepped out of a New-Age store, had said that it was an improvement over his earlier works, but he still had to express himself better with words. He already knew that; he could SAY what he wanted to express, but he just couldnt WRITE it. He was a living example of 'words cannot express what I feel'.

After school, he went to Clockwork's tower for his tutoring, but when Clockwork answered the door, he was told that Ghostwriter had requested that the sessions be moved to his library. So Danny flew to the library, checking to make double-sure that the book was still in his backpack, and walked through the door.

Once more, Ghostwriter was at his desk, typing away. Danny quietly flew over to the couch so not to disturb the 'Writer and pulled out the book. 'Well...my assignment's done...so...I guess you can go back now,' he thought to the book. It remained in his hands. He sighed. Stubborn book. He put it on the coffee table and pulled out his math homework (more quadratic functions, bleh) and began working on them, this time without the help of the Algebraic theory book. He was done in about twenty minutes. There was no homework in History today, but he did have to read ahead for 'The Canterbury Tales'. He pulled the copy of the book he'd bought from home out and began reading. Some of these stories were actually pretty funny, when the thought about it.

As he was reading, he didnt notice Ghostwriter had stopped typing and was staring at him with interest. He was thinking that perhaps Clockwork had been right; from what he was seeing, Danny was, in fact, an intelligent boy who only needed some focus and fewer responsibilities other than school. So he could admit that he'd been wrong about Danny. Clockwork had spoken to him earlier that day, when he mentioned that the tutoring should take place in his library, concerning the boy.

_"You really should get to know Daniel better," Clockwork had said. "It would be good for you to have a friend after all these years."_

_"I'm helping him with his tutoring," Ghostwriter replied. "He isnt interested in 'making friends'." He had looked away from his mentor. Clockwork put a hand on his shoulder._

_"Dont let past problems dictate the here and now," the Time Master told him. "You would make a marvelous friend for Daniel, and he, you." Ghostwriter gently shrugged the other ghost's hand off._

_"He wont like someone like me," he replied sullenly, then left the clock tower. As he walked through the door, he swore he heard Clockwork murmur,_

_"Dont be too sure about that."_

Ghostwriter put his attention back on the boy, who was smiling at something he obviously found humorous about the story he was reading. He thought about what Clockwork had said; the ghost had never really been wrong in the past. What had Clockwork seen in the near future that Ghostwriter wasnt seeing? Granted, he was no Time Mage like Clockwork, but being a story writer, he had very good ideas of where situations led. Looking on this one now, his first guess was Danny understanding things on his own, and ultimately forgetting about Ghostwriter and his tutoring sessions.

But was that what the future truly held? Well...it MIGHT...if he didnt attempt to make friends with Danny. After a second's thought, he smacked himself in the head with the palm of his hand. Duh. Clockwork WANTED him to make friends with Danny so it WOULDNT turn out like that. He looked as Danny turned a page of his book and nibbled on his lip, something Ghostwriter noticed over the month of tutoring as Danny's 'thinking' habit. Ghostwriter had the very same habit of his own.

He sighed to himself and quietly flew back to his kitchen and gathered a few things, then flew back to Danny, who had changed positions and was now lying on his back with the book resting upright on his chest. Ghostwriter rolled his eyes and set the items down on the coffee table, jarring Danny out of his little 'focus world'. Danny sat upright, blushing a little. "Sorry," he said. Ghostwriter arched a brow; when did the boy become so shy, anyway?

And for that matter, when did the boy...not be a boy anymore?

He hadnt really noticed because he tended to focus on Danny's work habits, rather than Danny himself, but it was hard not to notice now that he had decided to attempt civility-if not companionship-with the kid. Teenager. How old was he, anyway? Danny was definitely...grown. He looked to be just under six feet tall, with more muscle than he had when he first met the halfa. His hair had grown out, and was tied back at the nape of his neck in a short ponytail. His suit had also changed; a white top half with black gloves and a black bottom half with white boots. He still had his DP trademark on his chest. Didnt the boy have any regular clothes? At least when 'going ghost'?

"Dont you have any regular clothes?"

...Did that just REALLY come out of his mouth? Danny's expression told him yes; yes it did. Danny stared at Ghostwriter for a moment before looking down.

"Oh...oh, my suit." He reached up and unzipped the top half, revealing a black t-shirt underneath. "Yeah...I keep an extra change of clothes underneath, in case I need to take it off. I had to get a new one...I outgrew my old one."

"Dont you get hot?" Doesnt his brain and mouth have a filter between them? Danny shook his head.

"I just cool myself down," he replied like it was obvious. Ghostwriter blinked. "Oh, ice powers."

"...Ice powers?" Danny held up his hand and in a glow of blue, a crystal-like ice shard appeared in it.

"I can cool myself down from the inside out," Danny explained. He clenched his hands and it turned to what looked like snow.

Fascinating. Less than five minutes into attempting conversation, and he was learning more about the boy than he ever knew. Ghostwriter pulled himself out of his thoughts and gestured to the coffee table. "You hungry?" he asked. Danny gave him a smile and looked at what Ghostwriter had brought.

"Coffee? Thanks!" He picked up the green coffee mug-he recognized the black one as Ghostwriter's-and drank it straight. Ghostwriter almost cringed; he couldnt fathom drinking coffee without at very least sugar in it. Danny seemed to notice.

"Coffee quickly becomes your best friend during long nights of ghost fighting," he said, putting the empty mug down. "...Havent drunk it in awhile, though, thanks."

"...Anytime." Ghostwriter picked up the book Danny had been reading. "...'The Canterbury Tales'?" Danny nodded.

"Good stories," he replied. "Better than today's anicdotes in Reader's Digest." He picked up a cookie Ghostwriter had brought out.

"You read Reader's Digest?" Ghostwriter asked, sitting next to Danny on the couch. Danny bit into the cookie.

"Yeah," he replied. "I like the stories. My sister made me read them when I was in middle school when she tried to wean me off of comic books. It was either Reader's Digest or 'Seventeen'. I took the less girly one, obviously."

Ghostwriter nodded. "Understandable." He sat in awkward silence for a few moments. "...How old are you, again?" he asked. Danny blinked.

"...Eighteen in a few weeks, why?" he asked.

"Just wondering how old you were," Ghostwriter replied. More awkward silence.

"...How old are you?"

Ghostwriter gave him a sideways glance at the question. "...Dont you mean, how old WAS I?" he asked. Danny blushed a little, and Ghostwriter knew that his tone had been a little sharp.

"...I meant...how old ARE you," Danny repeated insistantly. Ghostwriter quelled down the offense.

"...Twenty-three." He hoped like mad that Danny wouldnt ask the number-one question in Ghost Zone. Thankfully, Danny didnt. The boy obviously knew what a personal question it was. "How did you get...?" He gestured. "...Like this?"

"Accident with my parents' Ghost Portal," Danny replied. "It wasnt working for them, so I went inside and accidently turned it on...while I was still inside. It...split me both ways." He looked down at the coffee mug in his hands. "...That would be a nicer term for it... Clockwork basically told me that it half-killed me."

Ghostwriter looked sharply at Danny, a bit shocked. It was indeed a crude way to put it, but it did make sense; he was half-ghost, so he must be half-dead. There was no other way to explain it. In fact...it was depressing. If there was one thing worse than being dead, it was being half-dead...and knowing it.

"...Fire, 1949."

* * *

**Whew. Now we're getting some progress!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Huh?" Danny was a bit confused at what Ghostwriter had said.

Ghostwriter, anxiously clenched his fingers into the end of his scarf. Other than Clockwork, he'd never mentioned his death to anyone. "I was studying at the college library for my final exam of the semester," he continued. "I fell asleep while studying, and somehow, a fire broke out in the library." He lowered his eyes to his hands. "...I actually died inhaling too much carbon monoxide before the fire actually reached me, but I still burned with the library." He looked up, gesturing with one hand around him. "THIS library."

Danny looked around, thinking of how terrible it must have been for Ghostwriter; falling asleep alive and waking up dead. "...The library came with you to the Ghost Zone?" he asked. Ghostwriter nodded.

"I practically lived here when I was alive," he replied. "I worked here, too. I even stayed the night here when I stayed up too late studying. I know where very book is. I know every detail of this place." He leaned back on the couch, in fact looking at home. "The library and I are in sync with each other, you might say. It was quite displeased with me when I was parted with it for those few months I was in jail."

Danny winced. "Yeah, about that..." he began. Ghostwrite cut him off.

"Forget I said that," he said. "It's...past, right?"

"No, I was going to say..." Danny scratched the back of his neck. "...I'm sorry for wrecking your poem that Christmas. I never did apologize for it."

Ghostwriter was surprised, to say the least. He never expected Danny to apologize, let alone remember what their feud had been about. "...It's okay," he found himself saying. "The rewrite was better, anyway." Danny snorted and picked up another cookie.

* * *

November was coming to a close. Danny's 18th birthday had come and gone. He had a party that was gatecrashed by Skulker (whom Danny surprised by offering to let the mech stay and have some fun), and got a new laptop from his parents to help with homework. After everyone had left (including Skulker, who was in too good a mood to continue hunting Danny), Danny packed his new laptop in its bag, transformed, then, on hindsight, took off his suit and put it in a lock-box that was similar to the Fenton Thermos, in that it contained and hid ghostly signitures, and was now dressed in a black t-shirt and dark-wash bluejeans. It was late November, so he grabbed a jacket and threw it on before flying into the Portal and off to Ghostwriter's library.

He didnt really know why he was visiting the 'Writer on his birthday; he just wanted to. He found it easier to concentrate on work when he was in the library; that, and he liked Ghostwriter. It was great having a friend who was serious and intelligent who, unlike Jazz, wasnt a little condescending about it. Plus, he and the 'Writer had a lot in common; they both loved Poe and Stephen King, they both loved coffee (Sam was against coffee, and Tucker just couldnt drink it after...The Incident That Shall Remain Unspoken), and they both felt that the library was home.

It was true; Danny felt at home in the library. Since he had discovered that the library had a level of sentience to it, he kept getting the feeling that the library...'liked' him. Ghostwriter told him that the library had a tendency to drive people away before they even got to the door (aside from Christmas, of course, when all ghosts-once human or otherwise-shared the Truce. But he always felt welcome at the library. It was like having two friends in one.

The library also still refused to take back "Finding the Inspiration Within", something Danny found both irritating and helpful. He was still having trouble with Creative Writing. He'd read further into the book and read that sometimes, people could venture into other languages to find words for their feelings. If the English word for something wasnt doing what you were feeling justice, maybe French did the word justice. Or Latin. Or Gaelic.

If anything, Danny learned a couple of interesting swear words in six different languages.

He flew to the library and smiled as the doors opened automatically for him. "Thanks," he told the library. He felt as though the library was proverbially ruffling his long hair. He looked around for Ghostwriter and when he didnt see him, the library sent a 'compulsion' that told him the 'Writer was in the kitchenette.

A moment later, Ghostwriter poked his head around the corner. "What are you doing here?" he asked, though not sounding irritated to see Danny. "It's not tutoring day. Or is it?" He checked his watch.

"No, no, it's not," Danny assured, walking up to his new friend. "It's just my birthday today, and I came by to see you and show you what I got."

Ghostwriter looked at Danny in surprise; Danny came HERE? On his birthday? To see HIM? "...Why?" he found himself asking. Danny blinked and shifted his computer bag's strap over to his other shoulder.

"...I dunno," he replied awkwardly. "I mean...we're friends, arent we?"

Ghostwriter nearly dropped the mug of latte he was holding. "...We are?" he asked, bewildered. Yes, he had been wondering if, exactly, Danny thought of him as a friend, but didnt really think YES, he DID. He noticed Danny's expression fall slightly, and the halfa's cheeks flush slightly red.

"...Sorry," he said, unconsciously shifting back a little. "I mean...you've been great and all...I'd just assumed...sorry for that..." He turned to leave.

Ghostwriter immediately saw his mistake, and put his mug down on the table and rushed forward, grabbing one of Danny's arms. "Wait!" he said, mentally kicking himself. "Sorry, I didnt mean it like that!" Danny turned around, looking at him with almost hopeful eyes. Ghostwriter found himself wondering how someone who was as...masculine as Danny was could still look so child-like. Especially the eyes. He looked so innocent. Why was he so shy? It was terribly off-putting, for someone who looked like Danny did.

"...So...are we? Like...friends?" Danny said, his teeth nibbling on the inside of his lip anxiously. Ghostwriter gave him a half-smile and nodded.

"...Guess we are," he replied. "You want a latte? I just finished making a batch." Danny gave him a smile that brightened the room.

"I'd love some, thanks!" He sat down on the couch as Ghostwriter went back into his kitchenette to make another cup.

'...How does he do that?' the 'Writer thought to himself. How did someone who rescued his city-and every once and awhile, the world-on a nearly-daily basis, could stare down Skulker, and outwit Plasmius still come off as insecure and shy? He made a mental note to ask Clockwork about that later. He carried the two full mugs back to the couch and coffee table, where Danny had unloaded a new laptop and was tinkering with it. "That looks new," he commented, handing Danny his latte.

"It is," Danny said, taking a sip. "Mom and Dad gave it to me for my birthday to help me with my schoolwork. It has a printer to go with it, back at home."

"Technology certainly is a blessing in this day and age," Ghostwriter commented. "After...THAT Christmas, I traded in my typewriter for a laptop so I could save my stories and make copies." He paused, taking a sip. "...Just in case."

Danny lowered his eyes to the keyboard, his finger trailing the keyes almost tenderly. "...I want you to know how sorry I really am for that," he murmured. Ghostwriter was about to protest, but Danny beat him to it. "I look back on that year and...I get sick, knowing how bitter I was." He lowered his head, his fringe blocking his eyes from Ghostwriter's view. "I would've thought to let go of bitterness...after I saw what it can cause. I nearly messed up everyone's holidays completely because I couldnt learn how to enjoy my own for myself." He looked up at Ghostwriter in the eye. "I destroyed something you worked so hard on, and I didnt even have the decency to apologize for it."

Ghostwriter found himself in a very uncomfortable situation; he had wholeheartedly forgiven Danny for that incident-seriously, the rewrite WAS a lot better. Seeing the halfa still fretting about that, and to the ridiculous degree in which he was doing it, he almost wanted to comfort the boy-young man-Danny. He wanted to comfort Danny.

Those innocent eyes were almost pleading for Ghostwriter to forgive him, and Ghostwriter couldn look away. Danny's innocence was...enamouring.

...He did NOT just think that. No. No, no, no, he could NOT let his mind travel down that road, LEAST of all with Danny Phantom!

"...Forgiven," he managed to stammer out. He cleared his throat and forced his gaze away from Danny's to focus on his latte. "...It's forgiven...Danny," he forced himself to say the boy's name. "Really. I mean it." He froze when Danny put a hand on his shoulder and gave him another one of those warm smiles.

"...You're a great guy," Danny replied. "And hey, thanks to you, I DO make my own happiness for Christmas now. He looked at his watch, which held both the time and the date. "And Christmas is, like, a month away! I can show you how much I've changed since then..." As he rambled on, Ghostwriter wondered if the boy had ADD. He also tried to blast several unwanted thoughts out of his head, regarding Danny.

* * *

After helping Danny with his new computer by uploading some software the boy would need for school and such later on, Danny polished off his third latte, and was a little bit hyper off of the caffiene. Ghostwriter figured that it was the human half of the boy that was being affected; coffee and lattes for him only produced the placebo effect; plus, he liked the taste. Danny finally packed up his computer to leave, as it was nearly midnight. Ghostwriter walked him to the door.

"It was SO great seeing you again!" Danny exclaimed, buzzing with his caffiene OD. Ghostwriter smiled, amused.

"You saw me yesterday," he commented. Danny paused to think.

"...I did, didnt I? Oh well! See you later!" Before Ghostwriter could react, Danny reached forward and pulled the 'Writer into a brief hug before letting go and waving goodbye enthusiastically and flying out of the library.

Ghostwriter stood frozen in place, his mind trying to process what had just happened.

He was called 'friend'.

He was hugged.

He was feeling a twisting in his core; that twist was radiating warmth that was quite pleasant.

...TOO pleasant.

He could practically hear his library congratulate him on his new 'companion'.

Oh damn. Oh damn, oh damn, oh DAMN.

This was NOT happening.

* * *

**(sing-song voice) Sounds like a little thing called love...**

**And I already have more chapters already written; should I just upload them all at once, and ya'll can review them one at a time?**


	5. Chapter 5

Danny didnt originally know that emails could be sent from dimension to dimension, but he quickly figured that out when he got a message in his inbox from Ghostwriter, telling Danny that he needed a few personal days to himself, with a reminder to Danny to keep up the good work. Danny was a little put out by that; he liked spending time with Ghostwriter. But he respected the 'Writer's wishes and left him alone.

He did keep up his homework and studying. He had learned to ask his Algebra II teacher for better explainations when he didnt understand something, so his math grade didnt suffer. He had already gotten through his first three books in English class, so he went out and used some of his birthday money to buy the next two books, 'Odysseus' and 'Hamlet'; his sister also had 'Moby Dick' in her personal storage that Danny used. 'Odysseus' was a bit harder to understand, but damn if Homer didnt know how to write an epic!

Creative Writing was still something of a struggle, but all of his extra reading and "Finding the Inspiration Within" really helped. The next project due was a poem about raw emotion; taking any emotion and writing out one's truest feelings about it. Danny still had no clue what to write about, but he figured he would find out sometime or the other.

But a few days turned into a week and a half, and Danny was yearning for the library and Ghostwriter's company. He didnt really know why. Sam and Tucker were missing him, and they were always free to hang out. But he really missed Ghostwriter. A lot.

Finally, Danny couldnt take it anymore. He packed his laptop, his journal-which in his opinion held better writings than his Creative Writing assignments, but they were PERSONAL, damn it-and "Finding the Inspiration Within" and took off his suit (replacing the clothing underneath with a long-sleeved shirt, heavy cargo pants, and a warm jacket) and flew through the portal and toward the library.

When he touched down, the library doors opened for him, and when Danny stepped through, he got a proverbial mental image of the library dive-tackling him into a hug like a dog, but he also felt...emptiness. Like Danny was a missing puzzle piece that had just been found. It was a mood-lifter and a depressor at the same time. Danny walked around, mentally asking the library where Ghostwriter was, and was sent a compulsion that lead to the bowels of the library where Danny had never ventured. He flew around until he found Ghostwriter in the back of the library holding a stack of books and mumbling to himself.

"...Hey."

Ghostwriter nearly dropped the books, but managed to keep a hold on them as he turned around to face Danny. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a little tight, if not surprised. Danny quelled the disappointment.

"...I came to see you," he replied. "...Is that okay?" Ghostwriter looked a little uncomfortable.

"...I...I did ask for a few days..." he mumbled.

"...That was nearly two weeks ago," Danny replied. He shifted around a little. "...Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, no, you didnt do anything wrong," Ghostwriter replied, sounding a little distracted and panicky, like he had said the wrong thing without realizing it. "I mean...I just...had some things...!" As he spoke, he maneuvered around with the large stack of books, almost compulsively snitching even more from the shelves. "...Needed to sort things out is aAAAAA!"

As he tried to reach for another book, Ghostwriter shifted wrong and the delicate balance of the books was lost; the whole stack tumbled out of his arms and crashed to the floor.

"Damn it!" Ghostwriter bent down to pick them up, sounding much more upset than he aught to have been. Danny bent down to help him. "No, it's okay, just leave it-!"

"Let me help-!"

"-I'm fine-!"

"-Come on-!"

"-Leave it-!"

They both fumbled for books for a few seconds, then they both reached for the same book and their hands touched.

Both froze, then drew back as though the other had electrocuted them.

"-Sorry-"

"-Sorry-"

They both spoke at the same time, then clammed up. Danny took a moment to glance at the titles of the books.

'Configuring Your Emotions'

'The Art of Empathy'

(1) 'Älskar han dig?' (...he would have to come back to that one later)

'More Than Friends'

'Is It Love'

'Romance for Dummies'

That last one caught his eye. What...? He then noticed that all of the book titles had something to do with emotions. Emotions of the non-platonic persuasion. He felt his face grow warm and looked up at Ghostwriter, who was nearly red (astounding, the dead factor considered) and refusing to meet his eye. Danny was no genius, but he was also no idiot. With a warm face that could melt his ice powers, he quietly stacked Ghostwriter's books into neat piles and pushed them gently toward the 'Writer, who was making stacks of his own and looking like he wanted to strangle himself with his own scarf.

As soon as the books were neatly put into piles, they all vanished to their original places, and Danny had a feeling that that was the library's doing. He looked at Ghostwriter, who was still sitting on his knees, his hands clenching together twitchily. "...Ghostwriter...?"

"I'm so STUPID!" Ghostwriter suddenly yelled, making Danny jump. The 'Writer clenched his hands into his hair and pulled at it. "STUPID! I TOLD CLOCKWORK! I TOLD HIM THIS WOULDNT WORK!"

"Ghostwriter, what are you-?"

"I TOLD HIM YOU WOULDNT LIKE SOMEONE LIKE ME! RUINED! I RUINED IT!"

"Ghostwriter!"

"STUPID!" Ghostwriter kept shouting, beating his fists into his head. "STUPID QUEER! STUPID FREAK!"

"GHOSTWRITER, STOP!" Danny grabbed the 'Writer's wrists and held them tightly, stopping the novelist from hurting himself further. The 'Writer struggled for a few moments, calling himself derogatory names, until Danny jostled him a little. Ghostwrister seemed to instinctively flinch away. Danny eased up on his grip a little. "...Ghostwriter," he began softly, "stop it. Calm down and tell me what's wrong."

The Ghostwriter stared at the halfa like he had just asked him what 2 plus 2 was. "...Did you not hear me?" he asked in a deadly soft whisper. "Dont you know WHAT I am?"

Danny let go of the 'Writer's wrists. "...Last time I checked, you were a ghost novelist," Danny said, his voice serious. Ghostwriter glared at him. "...What?"

"Dont you patronize me!" Ghostwriter snapped. "Everything's RUINED!"

"Why?" Danny interviened. "Why is everything ruined? What's so wrong with you that it would interfere with our frienship?"

"I'm a QUEER, you dunce!" Ghostwriter shouted. He lowered his head and put his hands over it. "Now you know. Now you can hate me, leave, and never come back, just like I told Clockwork you would. Stupid fool thinks he knows everything...!"

"Ghostwriter, what the HELL are you talking about?" Danny demanded. "What, you think I'll start beating on you because you're GAY? That I'll just leave you after establishing the fact that we are FRIENDS? What kind of person do you take me for?"

Ghostwriter looked up a little, shock apparent in his eyes. "...You dont...find me disgusting...?" he asked. "...A freak?"

Danny burst into laughter. "Ghostwriter, you're talking to someone who's considered a freak in BOTH worlds. YOU, Ghostwriter, are NO freak just because you're gay." He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the shelves tiredly. "...I know things might have been different back in the 1940s...but nowadays...it's not that big a deal, really. If you'd step out of your library every now and then, you'd see that."

Ghostwriter slowly uncurled himself from his protective little cocoon he had created and lowered his hands to his lap. "...You mean...there are...might be...OTHER...gay ghosts?" he asked. Danny snorted.

"Ghostwriter, where did you get your laptop from?" he asked. Ghostwriter rolled his eyes.

"Technus, who else?" he asked. Danny gave him a 'look', and Ghostwriter's jaw dropped. "No...TECHNUS is...?"

"Gayer than a picnic basket," Danny said, grinning. "If you actually came to the Christmas Truce parties, you would see him chasing all of the GUYS around with mistletoe. He's even hit on my friend Tucker for being a fellow techie."

"...Wow," Ghostwriter said, leaning back on his own shelf. "So...it's...accepted nowadays? Homosexuality?" Danny shook his head.

"Not everywhere," he replied. "There are still some people who dont approve of it. But you were born and raised in Toronto, right?" Ghostwriter nodded. "Canada's legalized gay marriage."

"Really." Ghostwriter took a moment to let things sink in. "...Things have changed in the past sixty years, havent they?" Danny nodded. "And...you dont...feel uncomfortable...having someone who's...?"

"Ghostwriter, if I resented you for being gay, I'd be something of a hypocrite," Danny replied, his cheeks a bit pink. "...I've...found myself looking at my fair share of guys before." He scratched the back of his head. "...I've been hit on by a few guys...and I've felt FLATTERED." His face HAD to be red by now. "...I guess I'm...bi-curious, they call it."

Ghostwriter batted away several images that were highly inappropriate and stood up, straightening his coat out. "...Do you want some coffee?" he asked, extending his hand to Danny. "I could use some coffee."

Danny looked up at Ghostwriter and smiled, taking the offered hand. "I'd love some."

* * *

Drinking coffee on the couch was something of a quiet affair. Very little was said between the two of them, but they both stole glances at the other, hiding shy smiles behind their respective coffee mugs. Finally, Danny looked at his watch and sighed. "I have to be getting home," he said softly. "Creative Writing assignment." Ghostwriter nodded.

"...How has your schoolwork been?" he asked. Danny gave him a smile.

"I've been keeping up with it," he replied confidently. "I've already read through 'Odysseus' twice."

"Seven times, not including the entire 'Iliad'," Ghostwriter replied smugly. "Homer was a genius, was he not?"

"Yeah," Danny said, standing up and picking his bag up. "...Can I come by tomorrow?" he asked hopefully. Ghostwriter nodded.

"Of course!" They began walking to the door, then Danny suddenly paused.

"...What's your name?" he suddenly asked. Ghostwriter froze, not expecting the question.

"...What?" he asked softly. Danny nibbled his lip nervously.

"...I mean, you dont HAVE to tell me," he replied quickly. "I just wanted to know, is all..." He stepped up to the door.

"...Andrew." Danny turned around to see Ghostwriter blush slightly. "...My name is Andrew." Danny smiled; it fit him. But what would fit more... He suppressed an unmanly giggle.

"Alright," he said, not bothering to keep a straight face. "See you...Andy." Ghostwriter bristled indignantly and gave Danny a small shove.

"It's ANDREW," he said. "Not 'ANDY'! I hated it when Mother would give me and my half-brother those stupid pet-names, 'Andy' and 'Randy', it just sounds so juvin-!"

He was cut off when Danny leaned forward and pressed his lips to the ghosts's for just a split second. He pulled away, his face flaming.

"...Ju...juvin...ile..."

"...See you tomorrow...Andrew." With that, Danny left, leaving Ghostwriter standing by the door with an expression of pure shock on his face.

The shock faded to embarrassment.

The embarrassment faded to a warm feeling in his core.

...He liked it.

As he walked back to the couch, Clockwork's words rang out in his head; the ones that Master of Time had said after he had told him that Danny 'wouldnt like someone like him'.

_"Dont be too sure about that."_

...Clockwork had been right.

* * *

**(1) It's Swedish for "Does He Love Me?"**

**And just for a bit of trivia: Ghostwriter being born in Toronto is a tribute to his voice actor.**


	6. Chapter 6

Jazz was home early from college for the holidays, and was waiting for Danny when he returned home. As soon as he walked through the door, he was ambushed by his older sister. "DANNY!" she cried happily, throwing her arms around his neck. He took a moment to get over his shock, then hugged her back happily.

"Jazz, you're home early!" he said. "It's been so long!" Jazz pulled back and held him at arm's length.

"Look at you!" she laughed. "You're finally taller than I am! And you're letting your hair grow out!" She paused for a moment. "...Say something."

"...What do you mean?" Danny asked, then gave her a look that implied a face-palm.

"...You sound creepy," she said. Danny rolled his eyes and snatched her headband out of her hair and held it above her head.

"And you're short! Jump for it, Jazzy! Come on!" Jazz let out a childish groan and pouted.

"REAL mature, Danny!" she griped. Danny laughed and gave it to her.

"Says the twenty-year-old who still sleeps with a teddy bear," he shot back. Jazz punched his shoulder playfully, then took his hand and led him to the kitchen. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Still out, I guess," Jazz replied, fixing them both some hot chocolate. "I only got in less than a half-hour ago." She sat down at the table in front of him. "So, what's been going on with you? Mom and Dad havent really given me any details."

Danny sipped his chocolate. "I've been working on all As and Bs this year," he said. Jazz stared at him.

"You serious?" she asked. Danny nodded, grinning.

"I gave up ghost fighting and got a tutor," he said, his face turning pink at the very mention of...Andrew. "I need to graduate and get into college...sacrifices had to be made."

Jazz smiled and reached over to touch his arm. "I'm proud of you, Danny," she said sincerely. "I really am." She shifted around a little. "...Man, your voice is creepy...when did you get it?"

"Can we ignore the fact that yes, I do in fact get the creepy voice of my jerk older self?" Danny deadpanned. "It's bad enough I scared the crap out of Sam and Tucker last year when I showed up to school with it." Jazz gave him a smile that was both apologetic and teasing.

"Okay, okay," she said, laughing. "I'll stop. But tell me about this tutor." She gave him a knowing smile. "You blushed when you mentioned her. Is she cute?"

Danny spit out his sip of hot chocolate at Ghostwriter being called a 'she'. He quickly wiped away the chocolate from his chin and blushed harder. "...Um...Jazz..." he said delicately, "...my tutor is a GUY."

"Oh," Jazz said, blushing herself. "I mean, you were blushing when you mentioned a tutor, so I just assumed..." She broke off. "So, what's his name?" Danny took another sip of chocolate.

"Andrew," he answered. "I like to piss him off and call him 'Andy'. He gets all cute and flustered when he..." He broke off this time, his own face red. Jazz blinked, then set her mug down.

"...Do you like him?" she asked delicately, keeping her voice low, unassuming, and nonjudgemental. Danny eyed his sister; she had accepted him and kept his secret when she found out he was half-ghost. He felt that he could trust her with this.

"...Yeah," he said. "I like him." He propped his head on his hand and sighed. "...A lot." Jazz reached over to touch his arm again.

"It's okay to like him, Danny," she said, smiling. "I'll support you in anything you want." She gave him a sly look. "Does he know you like him?"

Danny blushed; after kissing the Ghostwriter, it was kind of hard to imagine him NOT knowing that Danny liked him. "...Yeah. He knows."

"...Does he like you?" Danny nodded.

"...Have you two kissed?"

"JAZZ!"

"That would be a 'yes'," she said triumphantly. Danny buried his head under his arms on the table and groaned.

"You suck!" he replied childishly.

After going through the interrogation with Jazz, Danny went up to his room to try his hand at Creative Writing again. He had managed to answer her questions without A) revealing Andrew's identity, and B) revealing that Andrew was a ghost. Those two little tidbits, Danny wanted to keep to himself.

* * *

Another day at school, another string of confidence-boosting As and Bs, another reason to look forward to the end of the day.

Case in point: visiting Ghostwriter.

The final bell rang, and Danny put his books in his backpack, wrote down the date for the Chemistry semester final in his planner, then ran for the door, only to nearly knock Sam and Tucker over in the hallway. "Sorry guys," he said. His friends smiled and hooked thier arms around his shoulders.

"What do you say we go catch a movie?" Tucker asked. "The new Femalien movie comes out today, and I scored us tickets online!"

"Sorry guys," Danny said. "I..have tutoring today, then I have homework-."

"Danny, I know that you've been working hard to get good grades," Sam said, "but you need to relax sometimes. One night of debauchery including nachos and soda wont set you back."

Danny sighed; he had already promised to see Ghostwriter after school today. "...Okay, listen," he said. "I HAVE to go to tutoring. I'll get out by six, and then I'll do my homework tomorrow. Is that okay?"

"Sounds good," Tucker said.

"I'm all for that," Sam added. Danny gave them smiles, then turned invisible and transformed.

"Call you later!" he said, then flew straight home and to his bedroom, where he took of his suit and stored it in the lock-box, then put his Chemistry schoolbook and notebook, his pencil case, and "Finding the Inspiration Within' into a separate bag, then flew down to the Portal, making a mental note to figure out how his older jerk self summoned portals at will.

He was too busy trying to figure it out ("Did he steal that power from Wulf?") that he didnt notice the patrol car to his left. Therefore, he was quite surprised when Walker appeared out of nowhere and snatched him up by his bag. "What the fu-!"

"You might wanna think about what you say, punk," Walker said, jerking the bag away from Danny. "Backtalk is five months, easy."

Danny forced himself to keep his mouth shut; for the past four years, he had been trying to keep a level of civility between himself and the Ghost Zone residents. Not cooperating with Walker was NOT the way to do it. At very least, he had done the warden a favor two years back that had been part of a deal to get his name taken off of Walker's wanted list. If Walker wanted to do a search through his stuff, then what the hell. Have at it, wacko.

Walker looked through his bag, scowling (did the guy have ANY other facial expression?), and pulled out the pencil case. "...Mortal world contraband," he said, obviously disapproving. Danny scowled.

"...It's my Chemistry homework," he said. "Nothing anyone born within the year of 1000 BC would have a conniption over." Walker scowled at him, but then turned back to the 'contraband'-and began incinerating it. "NO!" Danny shouted, diving for it. Walker kept it out of his reach, but Danny managed to grab Ghostwriter's book and hold onto it protectively. Walker growled and snatched the book away from him.

"Resisting enforcment of the law," he quoted, opening the book up. "Against the rules." To Danny's absolute horror, he ripped the cover of the book off in one swipe.

Danny gaped at the destroyed book for a moment before rearing his fist back and driving it into Walker's face. "YOU ASSHOLE!" he screamed, grabbing the ripped book. "THAT WASNT CONTRABAND! THAT WAS ONE OF GHOSTWRITER'S BOOKS!"

Walker, who had looked about ready to tear the boy something other than a book, froze when Danny mentioned Ghostwriter. He took another look at the book and sensed ecto-energy from it. Well, damn, he thought. Destruction of another ghost's property without probable cause. THAT was against the rules. He turned to the patrol car and got in; if he let the brat go for resisting enforcment, then he could let himself go for destruction of property with a half-clean conscience.

Danny watched the patrol car leave, and couldnt resist screaming out a Ghostly Wail in fury. After taking care of that book for SO LONG, Walker had to go and DESTROY IT! SHIT! He screamed out his fury for at least 45 seconds before Wailing himself out and collapsing on the abyss that was the Ghost Zone.

"Damn it..." he groaned, putting his face in his hands. What was he going to say to Ghostwriter?

* * *

The library seemed to sense that not all was well in the kingdom that was Danny, and sent an imploring sensation to the halfa as he walked through the doors. Danny sent the library a mental apology for the book, and felt even worse when he could sense sadness from the library at the loss.

Ghostwriter looked up from his laptop and smiled when he saw Danny. "Good afternoon," he greeted, saving his work in progress. "I have some coffee ready for you if...you..." He paused when he saw the look on Danny's face; as though someone had died. "...Danny, what's wrong?"

Danny resisted the urge to run away right then and now, but he wasnt a coward. He had to tell Ghostwriter. "...I...I mean..." he stammered, his hands shaking. He couldnt bring himself to look Ghostwriter in the eye. "...Something...bad..." The 'Writer walked forward and took Danny's shaking hands in his own.

"Danny, what's wrong? he asked. "Did something happen?" Danny nodded. "...Is it really that bad?" A vigorous nod. "...Tell me."

Danny let out a defeated sound and reached into his pocket to take out a piece of paper; the only thing he found of the book, since Walker had taken the rest of it. "...Ghostwriter..." he said, handing the paper to the novelist. "...I...your book...!"

All Ghostwriter could focus on were the words 'your' and 'book'. His book? This page had been from HIS BOOK? HIS. BOOK?

"...Get out."

Danny froze when he heard the icy coldness in the Ghostwriter's voice. "Ghostwriter, I can explain-!"

"Get out!" The 'Writer's eyes began to glow luminescent green with fury.

"Andrew, PLEASE, listen to m-!"

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Ghostwriter screamed, a shockwave of his own ghostly energy knocking Danny into a wall. "GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT GET! OUT!" Wave after wave of murderous intent hit Danny, and the halfa could barely focus long enough to reach for the door and fly out. As soon as Danny was out of the library, the entire building seemed to erupt with the sounds of Ghostwriter's screams of homicidal fury. He flew back towards his home with tears in his eyes.

He had screwed up. He had screwed up BAD.

* * *

Back in the library, Ghostwriter finished throwing his rage tantrum and was now standing in the middle of the room, holding the one piece of paper that remained from a book that he himself had written. He glared down at it, his eyes still glowing with rage.

Clockwork had been wrong, he thought darkly. After all he had done for the boy, the ungrateful brat had to be careless with one of HIS BOOKS! It was outrageous! Inexcusable! UNFORGIVABLE! And he had actually began to fall in love with the half-ghost; began to find comradery in him! He wouldnt be making THAT mistake again. He vanished into the deep regions of his library, the books rattling on their shelves as he passed them.

Outside contact was a joke.

Ridiculous.

* * *

When Danny flew through the Fenton Portal and up to his room, his passage was not unnoticed by Jazz, who was in the living room reading. She walked up the stairs to Danny's room and stood outside his bedroom, hearing the subtle sound of a transformation, then heard him dial something into his cell phone.

"...Hey, Tucker...?" His voice sounded so...defeated. Scared. Sad. Miserable. All at once. "...No...I wont be able to make it to the movies tonight...no...not tomorrow, either...Tucker...just..." Jazz heard him break off and make a noise that sounded like he was near tears. "...I'll see you in school. Bye." He closed his cell phone and Jazz heard him drop hard onto his bed. After a few moments, she knocked softly.

"...Danny?" she called softly. "...It's Jazz. Can I come in?" She listened out for a moment, then heard something drop inside. That was their code; if Jazz or Danny wanted to talk to the other but wasnt sure if they were allowed in, they would drop something on the floor as a sign that they could come in. She opened the door and found Danny sprawled on the bed on his stomach, his face buried in his arms. It was depressing to see her grown-up brother distraught about something. She walked over to his bed and sat down, putting a hand on his back. "...What happened?" she asked.

Danny was silent for a few moments, then he lifted up his head and gave her a sideways glance. "...I messed up, Jazz...!" he choked out. "I...Andrew...he..." He put a hand to his face and bit his lip hard, trying not to cry.

"...Did he hurt you?" she asked.

"No!" Danny bit out. "I hurt him! I let something that was...important to him get ruined!" He let out a shuddery sigh and lowered his face to his arms again. "...After all he did for me...I let something precious of his get destroyed..."

Jazz rubbed Danny's back comfortingly. "It'll be okay, Danny," she said softly. She couldnt really say anything more. Studying psychology and counciling since elementary school did nothing for her now that her brother truly needed it.

* * *

Danny must have fallen asleep, because when he looked up from his arms, it was night and Jazz was gone from his room. He rubbed his eyes and numbly got out of his bed and sat down at his desk, his head in his hands and his eyes staring down at the desktop. After a few minutes of nothing but desktop-staring, he reached for his journal and began to write.


	7. Chapter 7

Danny spent the entire weekend in his room, either writing in his journal or lying comatose in bed, staring into nothingness.

Jazz came in a few times to try to get him to eat something or to try to get him to talk to her, but he only laid on his side and stared a hole into the wall. Finally, on Sunday, she came up to his room with his favorite cookies and a cup of hot chocolate, and set them on his nightstand and sat down on his bed, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Danny," she said in a gentle but firm voice. "Just tell me what you're feeling."

Danny was silent for a few moments, then he swallowed hard. "...I feel like my insides have been ripped out," he replied quietly. "I feel so...bad." Jazz blinked back tears. Her brother must've really liked this Andrew guy. Part of her wanted to find this guy and kick his ass for hurting her baby brother; the other part wanted to coax her brother to try to move on. After all, the first major heartbreak hurt the worst.

"It'll be okay, Danny," she said softly. "...It'll hurt for awhile...but the hurt will go away eventually." She tucked her hands under Danny's side and lifted him up ('Damn, he's grown a lot...') to sit up against his headboard, then gave him the plate of cookies. "You havent eaten anything in almost two days. At least eat the cookies."

Danny listlessly picked one up and bit into it. He chewed, swallowed, then put the cookie down on the plate and closed his eyes as tears ran down his face. Jazz set the plate aside and pulled him into a hug. At last, she thought. He was finally letting it out.

* * *

Starting Monday, Danny threw himself into his studies with even more vigor than ever. Keeping his mind busy made the pain hurt less.

Sam and Tucker were worried about him; he never talked unless it was to answer a teacher's questions, spent lunch hour in the school library, and didnt even wait for his friends after school anymore to rush home and lock himself away in his room.

He passed his exams easily, but unlike before, he took no pleasure in it. They were empty victories for him. All that was left was his Creative Writing poem on raw emotion. When his teacher called him up to read it aloud, he didnt have a piece of paper with him; instead, he had his journal in his hand. He flipped it open and pushed his hair away from his eyes as he ignored the people in the classroom to read his entry. "This is a poem about regret," he said in monotone, then sighed and began reading.

_"I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house_  
_That dont bother me_  
_I can take a few tears now and then just to let them out_  
_I'm not afraid to cry_  
_Every once and awhile_  
_Even though_  
_Going on_  
_With you gone_  
_Still upsets me_  
_There are days_  
_Every now_  
_And again_  
_I pretend I'm okay_  
_But that's not what gets me_

_What hurts the most_  
_Was being so close_  
_And having so much to say_  
_And watching you walk away_  
_And never knowing_  
_What could have been_  
_And not seeing that loving you_  
_Is what I was trying to do_

_It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go_  
_But I'm doing it_  
_It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone_  
_Still harder getting up_  
_Getting dressed_  
_Living with_  
_This regret_  
_But I know_  
_If I could do it over_  
_I would trade_  
_Give away_  
_All the words_  
_That I saved in my heart_  
_That I left unspoken_

_What hurts the most_  
_Was being so close_  
_And having so much to say_  
_And watching you walk away_  
_And never knowing_  
_What could have been_  
_And notseeing that loving you_  
_Is what I was trying to do"_

Danny finished reading and walked back to his desk, putting his journal away and resting his head on his hand, not noticing that his Creative Writing teacher had tears running down her face.

She kept him after class and asked him to sit down across from her desk.

"Danny, I want to discuss your poem today," she said, folding her hands on her desk." She watched the young man shift around a little almost indifferently. She had noticed his sudden change in his behavior; before this week, Danny had been making an honest effort to try to understand creative writing, but his work had been...mediocre, at best. But he still tried. But this week, he seemed distant from everything. He wasnt really taking care of himself, she had noticed. His hair, which was normally tied back, was hanging loose around his face. He was quiet, and didnt join in with the other students. She had seen him many times alone in the library, curled up on himself studying and ignoring everything around him. And that poem...she had heard the dispair in his voice; the hurt of loss. Something had to have happened sometime during the weekend; most likely heartbreak. "Danny, your poem was...sadly beautiful. It was simple, but it spoke so much in its simplicity. That poem deserves a solid A+, but...I want to talk to you about what it meant."

Ah, at last a reaction. One of Danny's baby-blue eyes was visible through that curtain of hair in his face, looking at her. Mrs. Yenny gave him a sad look. "...Did something happen over the weekend...to make you write that?" Danny was still for a moment, then he nodded. She sighed and shook her head. "...It's terrible that your best work comes from your worst of times." She took a candy jar out of her desk and pushed it to his side. It was her tradition; for every A she handed out, that student got to choose a candy from her jar. 'Sugar helps the creativity process,' she always said. 'Explains how children are so creative.'

Danny stared at the jar for a moment before choosing a sour green apple Blow-Pop and putting it in his mouth almost sullenly.

"But I want you to know that I would rather see you enthusiastic about Creative Writing and be terrible at it, than see you like this and you're good at it," she continued. "Dont sacrifice your happiness for anything, alright, Danny?"

Danny nodded, still not looking any better, and got up to leave. "Just a moment, Danny." He paused, and Mrs. Yenny walked up behind him and pulled his hair back into a ponytail with a rubber band. "There. Now it wont get in your eyes." She gave him a smile, then turned back to her desk and handed him another sucker.

"...Mrs. Yenny?" She looked up in surprise when Danny actually spoke up. Danny shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. "...Have you ever had your heart broken?"

She blinked, then gave him a sad smile. "Many times," she replied, then held up her left hand, showing him her wedding ring. "But it does pass with the right person."

Danny nodded, then walked out of her classroom.

...Maybe...some time with his friends at the cafe wouldnt hurt, he thought.

* * *

Back in the Ghost Zone, Ghostwriter was furiously typing away on his laptop, going on almost a week with no rest. He was avidly ignoring the pleas of his library to take a rest, read a book, or, hey, here's an idea-APOLOGIZE TO DANNY. He ignored it all in favor of the slasher novel he was writing, putting all of his anger and rage into it. So far in the story, eleven people had all died in horrible ways because they had wronged the killer. It was gory. It was nightmarish.

...It was completely not him. Still, it was something to vent with. He kept typing, completely oblivious to the Master of Time that had appeared in his library.

"Ghostwriter," Clockworks said. Ghostwriter ignored him.

"Ghostwriter." Too busy making this stupid kid die by strangulation...

"ANDY."

"MY NAME'S NOT-!" He finally looked up, scowling when he saw Clockwork. "...What do you want?" he demaneded, going back to his computer. Clockwork frowned and with a quick wave of his hand, froze the computer program.

"I came to tell you what a fool you were," he said, tapping his Time Scepter with his finger. "Ghostwriter...Andrew...you made a terrible mistake."

"Mistake?" Ghostwriter shouted, standing up from his desk. "MISTAKE! The only MISTAKE I made, Clockwork, was listening to YOU!" He tugged at his scarf angrily. "I trusted you! I trusted...that BOY!...with my feelings! And HOW does he repay me! He RUINS one of my BOOKS!" The library began to quake slightly at his fury.

Clockwork sighed, shaking his head. "It was an accident, Andrew," he said calmly. "Something beyond his control. You would know that if you would just listen to him."

"I dont want to SEE or HEAR from that little rat again!" the 'Writer growled, crossing his arms. "After all I did for him, he lets one of MY books get ruined! It's unforgivable!"

"The only 'unforgivable' thing I see here is you," Clockwork replied. "You dont know just how much you've hurt Daniel with your actions." His voice turned hard. "You put a book before a good relationship with a good person; something even your library does not condone." To emphasise his point, the library did indeed seem to send out a chastising compulsion. "You've been alone for too long, Andrew, and if you dont fix this, you will CONTINUE to be alone."

Ghostwriter didnt answer; he continued to stare away from Clockwork, a stubborn resolve on his face. Clockwork sighed.

"Mope if you must," he said. "But do me a favor and go to the Christmas Truce party this year." He turned to leave. "If it's Daniel you're worried about, he wont be there this year." Right before he vanished, he paused. "...And if it makes you feel any better," he said on a last sad note, "Daniel is miserable." He vanished.

Ghostwriter stood alone in the quiet library for awhile longer before sitting back down and going back to his writing...

...Only to find that Clockworks' time-freezing spell was still on his computer.

* * *

**Yes, I am aware that Danny's poem is not orginal; the words are lyrics from the song "What Hurts the Most", but let's just say for the sake of not giving a shit that he wrote them, ja?**


	8. Chapter 8

School was finally let out for Christmas vacation, but not without the very last Creative Writing poetry assignment for the end of the semester. Mrs. Yenny had given everyone a list of topics to choose from to write a poem on for everyone to vote on. The combined tally was the topic of 'Death'.

Fitting, Danny couldnt help but think dryly. He could hardly forget the irony that he was A) already half-dead, and B) feeling as though the alive part of him was dying. But whatever helped him with the assignment.

That's not to say that he didnt try to get in touch with Ghostwriter again; he had sent 'Writer a few emails, most of them begging to be forgiven and for him to reply, and almost all of them containing the explaination of what had really happened to the book. But predictably, he heard no response from the 'Writer.

He had attempted to have outings with Sam and Tucker for the past two weeks, but all that really accomplished was getting depressed halfway through whatever they were doing and going back to being holed up in his room. Having basically no social life, he had read through every book on his reading list, and then some more. Mostly tragedies. 'Romeo and Juliet'. 'Faust'. 'Paradise Lost'. Three stories he could never have understood (the language was too difficult to understand), he found himself empathizing with.

Screw watching sad movies and eating chocolate until you vomit your heart up; Danny would dare anyone in a funk to read 'Paradise Lost' and not feel better about themselves.

* * *

It was three days until the Truce party, but Danny wasnt planning on going. He was JUST feeling ever-so-slightly better about the confrontation with Ghostwriter, and didnt want his mood to ruin what he had built with his family during Christmas over the past years. His good nature around Christmas had actually been infectious; his parents no longer squabbled over the existance or lack thereof of Santa, and instead decided to let bygones be bygones (or at least argue about it in privacy). No, Danny decided to stay with his friends and family this Christmas.

He finally managed to pull his head out of his books long enough to work on Christmas-and Hanukkah-presents for his friends and family.

For Sam, he made an ice crystal necklace with his ice powers (the ice would never melt unless he wanted it to).

For Tucker, he'd bought an all-meat cookbook.

For Jazz, he typed out and framed a poem from a book he'd read that sanctified older-sisterhood.

For his mother, a framed poem about motherhood typed and formatted on a copy of a picture of the two of them when he was little as a background, as well as an ice crystal rose.

For his father, he'd managed to find a picture of a younger Jack and Vlad from college days (obviously at a keg party) on the college's website, where the two men were obviously drunk and laughing like they truly were friends. It was a creepy image to him, but it would be a treasure to his dad. He copied, laminated, and framed the picture, and added it to a box of fudge.

As for Ghostwriter...

Danny had originally thought about giving him the poem he had written for Creative Writing as a means to tell him how he truly felt...but he thought better of it. He didnt want his heart broken again.

He wrapped up the gifts and put them under the tree. Five great gifts from the heart, and none of them cost him a cent.

* * *

Christmas Eve.

Everyone in the Ghost Zone was getting ready for the Truce party. Everybody that is, except for Ghostwriter. The novelist was still fuming over the fact that his computer was frozen in time, so he couldnt get any work done. Sure, he could pull out his typewriter, but he had an obsessive-compuslive condition; when he started something, he couldnt start anything else until he finished it. It irked him to no end.

So for the past few weeks, he had taken to reading. And reading. And more reading. Not that it bothered him, per se, but he longed to start writing again. He checked his automatic calendar. Christmas Eve. Usually his most inspirational time (next to Halloween and Valentine's Day), but this year, he only felt spite. He couldnt even use his Quantum Keyboard to gain whatever revenge he wanted to dish out. It was still broken. Damn.

Ghostwriter sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses and turned a page of his book ("The Green Mile" by Stephen King).

"Boo."

Ghostwriter let out an unmanly shriek and bolted up from the couch to see Clockwork hovering amused over him. "You would be amazed at how many ghosts get scared with that one," he said, smiling. Ghostwriter gave him an ugly glare and picked his book up off of the floor.

"Did you need anything?" he asked tersely.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Clockwork said, taking the book from the Ghostwriter and ignoring the other ghost's protests. "I needed to see that you were off to the Truce party."

"I'm not going," the 'Writer replied.

"You really should," Clockwork pressed. Ghostwriter felt a migraine develop in his left temple.

"Why? So I can run into...that BOY?" he spat. Clockwork frowned at the 'Writer's description of his protege.

"I told you, he wont be there," he replied. "He's spending the holidays with his family this year."

"Oh, yippee," Ghostwriter deadpanned. "Still not going."

"Please?"

"No!"

"I'll take the freeze off of your computer."

"...Fine. But I'm NOT staying long!" With that, Ghostwriter snatched his scarf off of the couch and threw it on, then stalked out the door. "Meddlesome old coot..."

"I heard that!"

* * *

Ghostwriter grumbled to himself as he followed Desiree to the party. He didnt want to go. He had pissed these guys off before, and he wasnt sure they would want him to be there. Still, if it meant getting his work back from Clockwork and his stupid time-freezing spell, then what the hell. He'd go, he'd have a few drinks, try to not get his ass kicked, and he'd leave.

He walked through the door and was pleasantly surprised when he was met with smiles from everyone. He didnt expect them to be so...forgiving. Almost immediately, he was pulled into the merry fray, had a Santa cap put on his head by Ember, a drink pushed into his hand by Skulker, and hors d'hourves offered to him by the Lunch Lady. His spirits lifted a little as he sipped his drink-ectonog-and nibbled on the snacks.

"Hey, anyone know where the Ghost Child is?" he heard Skulker ask. Oh. THERE was a damn mood-dampener. He sat down with a huff in a chair.

"I, Technus, Master of Technology, hacked into the Ghost Child's email and saw that he told his friends he was not coming this year!" Technus announced.

"That's a bummer," Ember said, crossing her arms and leaning against Skulker. "He always brings that great fudge everyone loves."

"Oooh, doesnt he make that fudge himself?" Lunch Lady asked Spectra.

"Heh, remember when we got him totally smashed off of ectonog last year?" Skulker asked Walker. The warden snorted.

"Underage drinking is against the rules," he pointed out. "...But it WAS funny when Technus caught him under the mistletoe."

Ghostwriter's eye twitched; somehow, that fact disturbed him greatly.

"Does Technus still have that video?" Skulker snickered.

"No, I confiscated it..." Walker looked over and saw Ghostwriter, who dearly hoped that the warden wouldnt cart him off to jail just for being there. Instead, he was surprised when Walker actually smiled at him and excused himself from Skulker to walk over. "It's good that you're here," he said, reaching into his coat pocket. "I didnt want to go all the way to your library to give you this." That said, he pulled out a small package from his jacket and handed it to the 'Writer.

Ghostwriter took it hesitantly. It was a gift; simply wrapped in pure white wrapping paper. He gave Walker a confused look before pulling the paper off and gaping at what was inside in shock.

"Finding the Inspiration Within".

"Yeah, I found it on the Ghost Child a few weeks ago, and didnt realize it was one of yours when I tore it," Walker said sheepishly, having the decency to look abashed. "There's an inmate in my prison who used to be a book-binder, so he fixed it for you. Funny though...there's a page missing from there. Sorry."

Ghostwriter stared at the newly-fixed book with wide eyes, feeling a horrid twisting sensation in his gut. "You...found it on him...?" he asked slowly. Walker scratched the back of his head, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Yeah," he replied. "I found him with mortal-world contraband, and that book was with it. Like I said, I didnt realize it was yours, and I...destroyed it, along with his other mortal-world things." He snorted, shaking his head. "Kid nearly pummelled me because it was yours, not his."

That twisting sensation quadrupled within him as he listened to Walker's explaination. "...Did he try to save it?" he found himself asking. Walker gave him a 'look'.

"The kid was acting like it was a priceless treasure I had destroyed," he replied. "But I fixed it for you; it's against the rules to destroy another's property without just cause..."

The Ghostwriter didnt hear anything else that Walker said. In a quick flash, he flew away from the party and back to his library, holding his book tightly to his chest. He collapsed in his desk chair, pulling at his hair as he thought about everything that had transpired the weeks past. He was so STUPID! STUPID! Danny had TRIED to explain, but he didnt let him! As he had his mini-freakout, he heard a soft 'ping' from this computer, and saw that the time-freeze had been taken off. He also saw that he had nearly fifteen new messages.

All from Danny.

Ghostwriter quickly clicked on them, and felt his gut twist even worse with each one. All of them were begging him to forgive Danny. All of them offered the very explaination that Walker had given him. All of them broke his heart a little more with each passing word. The very last one was sent that morning. He clicked it open.

_Merry Christmas, Andrew_, was all it said.

The 'Writer sat back in his chair, staring at his computer screen in horror, regret, and self-loathing. "Oh, Danny..." he whispered to himself. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry...!"

How the hell was he going to fix this one?


	9. Chapter 9

It was Christmas morning, finally.

Danny woke up to the smell of his mother's Christmas breakfast, and let a smile come over his face. He was NEVER too old for his mother's breakfast on Christmas. He got out of bed, pulled on jeans and a hoodie, and went downstairs, where the rest of his family was already waiting. He hugged his sister and father, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Danny," his mother said, passing out breakfast for everyone. Even she had noticed that Danny had been in something of a depression for the past few weeks, and was so happy that his spirits seemed to be uplifted for today. Everyone ate their breakfast quickly, then Maddie passed out hot chocolate to everyone as they all took their seats to start opening gifts.

The tradition was kids first, adults second, but this year, Danny insisted on going last. So Jazz went first, and recieved new clothes from her parents and Danny's framed poem. She took a moment to read it, her eyes watering, then she hugged Danny tightly, whispering "Thank you," into his ear.

Next came Maddie, who also cried when she read her poem and saw the picture in the background, and was in awe of the still-cold rose that went with it. "Wherever did you find this, Danny?" she asked, holding the rose delicately in her hands. Danny just shrugged and grinned.

Next came Jack, who, predictably, was ecstatic about the picture Danny had managed to find. "I had a feeling someone took pictures at that party!" he commented. He was also very enthusiastic about the fudge. It was gone in five minutes.

"It's your turn, Danny!" his mother said, pushing a few gifts his way. Danny picked the one on top first; it was from Jazz. He opened the gift and found a new journal, bound in genuine leather with parchment-like pages. On every other page was a small square dedicated to a quote of inspiration from various sources. He smiled; his last journal was almost filled up. THIS one would be for his positive feelings.

From his mother, he got new clothes, which was good, because during the past semester, he had grown another inch, and was now just at six feet tall. A lot of them were black or dark-wash, but he was fine with that. Darker colors brought out the brightness in his eyes.

From his father, he got a tin that no doubt had fudge in it. Danny smiled; his father was a horrible cook, but made EXCELLENT fudge. Guess that's where Danny got it, he supposed. He opened up the tin and was suprised to see that a key was resting on top of the fudge. "...What's this to?" he asked, holding the key up. His father grinned and jerked his thumb to the door.

"Step outside and see," he replied. Danny jumped up and walked outside, and gaped when he saw a silver-and-blue Suzuki motorcyle waiting on the curb for him.

"Oh...my...!" Danny was in shock for a moment, then he let out a kiddish whoop of joy and hugged his dad. "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!"

Jazz ran to the door and stared. "Wow, Danny! Your own ride!" she said happily, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Good for you!"

Danny felt so happy right now. He had given and gotten great gifts for his family, and was going to do the same in a few hours when he met up with Sam and Tucker for their traditional Christmas lunch. And wast that was he had worked for these past four years? Enjoying the holidays for his own sake? Making his own happiness?

Yeah, he thought. It definitely was.

A few hours later, Danny pulled on one of his new shirts and jeans, then threw on the leather jacket his father had thrown in with the motorcyle, grabbed his bag with the gifts for his friends inside and headed out the door. "I'm going out to lunch with Sam and Tucker!" he called to his parents.

"Okay, sweetie!" his mother called back. "Be back around four, okay?"

"Why's that?" Danny asked. He usually came back from hanging out with his friends at six.

"We're going to Vladdie's for dinner!" his dad called out this time. Danny sighed; it was Christmas, he reminded himself. Even Vlad was bearable during Christmas time.

"Okay!" he called back, then went outside and put on his helmet and started his motorcyle. This year, he wasnt going to go ghost and fly over to Sam's where they usually met up. THIS year, he was going to surprise them. He kicked back the kickstand and rode off to Sam's house.

In a way, he thought as he leaned forward against the wind, this was BETTER than flying!

* * *

As predicted, his friends went crazy over his new motorcyle. Tucker kept taking pictures of it with his camera and Sam kept staring at it longingly. Why, Danny didnt know. She was loaded, she could just go get herself one.

He gave them their presents, which both of them absolutely loved, then they went into Sam's personal dining area for lunch. After talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company for awhile, they gave Danny their presents to him.

Sam gave him a metal keychain she had made in metal shop class; the keychain was in the shape of his DP insignia. Tucker gave Danny a scrapbook of all of their adventures together, complete with pictures, commentary, and even little keepsakes. After presents, they went to Sam's movie room and started to watch a holiday movie, but then talking became the prime focus, and the movie was put on mute.

"...So, Clockwork hired someone to be my tutor," Danny said, raising his voice a little so Sam could hear; she was on the other end of the room getting drinks for them.

"So THAT'S where you've been these past months," Sam said, walking back with the drinks on a tray. "You've been in the Ghost Zone, havent you?" Danny nodded and took his offered mug of warm drink. "So, who did Clockwork get to tutor you?"

Danny sighed and took a sip of his drink, freezing when he realized what it was. Vanilla caramel latte. Ghostwriter's favorite. A heavy weight settled on Danny's shoulders as he put the drink down and put a hand to his face. He WOULDNT cry in front of his friends. He COULDNT.

"Danny?" Sam set her drink down and reached over to touch his shoulder. "Danny, what's wrong?"

"...Ghostwriter."

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other. "...Um...that ghost guy who stuck you in a rhyme four years ago?" Tucker asked. Danny nodded. "...Did something happen?" Danny nodded again. "Did he hurt you?" A half-nod, then a shake of the head. "Then...dude, tell us what happened!"

...He couldnt talk about it, not yet. "I cant..." Danny said, fighting to keep his voice even. He looked down and noticed the time on his watch. "...I have to go," he said, standing up. "Family's having dinner at Vlad's..."

"You dont have to go," Sam said. "I mean...tell your parents you're sick or something; we'll come over and talk..." Danny shook his head, grabbing his bag and his helmet.

"I cant," he said again. "I'll talk to you guys later, kay?" Without a response, Danny headed outside, put on his helmet, and started up his motorcycle just as it began snowing. These past years, he had come to love the snow; he and Jazz would sometimes have snowball fights (Jazz was surprisingly better at it than he was) and then make snow angels. But right now, the snow was just an annoyance to him. To make sure the snow wouldnt gather on his helmet, he turned himself intangible and began driving home.

* * *

"VLADDIE!"

Vlad never stood a chance; he was grabbed in a spine-snapping bear-hug from his nemesis Jack Fenton and squeezed until he couldnt breathe. "Jack. Let. Go. Cant. Breathe!" Jack let him go only to give him a friendly, but non-too-gentle, smack on the back.

Normally, Danny would have found this hilarious. But he was still in a bit of a funk, so he merely ignored it.

"Wonderfull to see you too, Jack," Vlad forced out, then turned to greet his other guests as they passed. "Maddie, you're looking as lovely as ever." Maddie gave Vlad a polite smile, but kept walking. "Jasmine, you cut your hair! You're looking more like your mother every year." Jasmine also gave him a polite smile, but it left her face as soon as she passed him. "And Daniel, you..." He cut off when Danny stepped forward, and actually looked Vlad in the eye-at eye level. "...You've...grown."

It was true; Danny wasnt that surprised at Vlad's reaction. After all, he hadnt seen the other halfa since the summer. In five months, he had grown two inches, both in body and in his hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail, much like Vlad's own. Danny gave Vlad a nod and followed his family into the townhouse.

"Yes...well..." Vlad said, composing himself. "Dinner's in the dining room. Shall we?" He led the way, looking behind him every once and awhile to look at Danny, musing to himself.

...The boy HAD grown. And now, he wasnt even a BOY anymore. He was a young man now. Vlad never thought he would see the day when Danny would look at him at eye level; he didnt even think the boy would grow that tall. Must be Jack's genes, he thought. Danny was also much more filled out; the lanky form he had just a couple of years ago gone and replaced with a toned physique that actually rivaled his own. And his hair...Vlad felt a smile creep onto his face. Who knew Danny would inclined to long hair, like himself?

The smile left his face as he recalled the expression on Danny's face just moments ago. It looked tired and slightly pained. His bright, baby-blue eyes looked saddened and dull. Usually, when those eyes looked at him, they were a sparky blue with a hint of green behind them, usually out of anger or rage. But no green today. Not even 'sparky'. They were dull.

Quite odd.

Everyone was seated and began passing dishes to each other. Danny found himself sitting next to Vlad, while his dad occupied Vlad's other side. He put a little of something on his plate and began eating, practically ignoring everyone else at the table. Jack was chatting away about something or the other, Jazz was politely silent, though her eyes kept sliding to Danny every now and then, and Maddie was joining Jack in conversation. Vlad looked like he wanted nothing more than to shove the entire roasted chicken into Jack's mouth to shut him up.

"-Oh, and you should see what Danny got us for Christmas this year!" Jack added onto his long list of pointless drivel. Vlad stopped pretending to be interested and focused at attention.

"Oh?" he asked, looking at Danny, who was poking at his chicken breast with his fork. "What did he give you all this year?"

Maddie smiled at Danny, who managed a forced smile back. "They were the most precious and heartfelt gifts we've ever recieved," she said. "He gave me a poem that was typed on a background picture of me and him when he was just a toddler. And this amazing crystal rose!"

"He gave me a poem too," Jazz said, also smiling at Danny. "It was about the blessings of being an older sister." Vlad noticed that Danny's cheeks had begun to turn pink.

"And he gave me THIS!" Jack reached into his jumpsuit and pulled out the framed-and miraculously intact-picture Danny gave him. "Brings back memories, eh, V-Man?"

Vlad took the picture Jack gave him and didnt know whether to scowl or roll his eyes. Ugh, he remembered that party...he got wasted off his ass that night and ended up singing "Take On Me" in front of his entire class (he could hit soprano notes, who knew?). He was just so happy that cellphones didnt have cameras back then. But still, he had no idea that anyone had brought a camera to that party. He gave the picture back to Jack, who kept looking at it fondly.

"Ahh, good times," he said nostalgically, putting it back into his jumpsuit. "Can you still sing soprano?"

Vlad groaned and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

After dinner and dessert, everyone retired into the living room, where Vlad, surprisingly, had gifts for everyone.

For Jack, something that looked like a bazooka that Danny was quite sure would hurt very much if it hit him.

For Maddie, a diamond necklace.

For Jazz, a bracelet and earrings inlaid with beautiful aquamarine gems that matched her eyes.

And for Danny, he gave the boy a set of keyes.

Danny stared at the keyes for awhile before looking up at Vlad. "...What are these to?" he asked. Vlad blinked; that had been the first time Danny had spoken to him, and damn, even his voice sounded...well, creepy. Especially for someone who still had a boyish face.

"They're to an apartment I bought just up down," he replied, smiling almost friendly-like at the boy-young man, he corrected himself. "It's all yours to use while you're in college."

Maddie and Jack began exclaiming excitedly over Danny's gift as Danny remained silent. After his parents had calmed down, he gave Vlad a half-smile. "...Thanks," he said.

* * *

As Danny was at Vlad's, the Ghostwriter came out of the Fenton Portal (he had to ask Skulker for directions) and quietly went intangible to fly around the house, looking for Danny. The house was empty. They must have all gone somewhere. A bit dissappointed, he nevertheless flew up to the second floor and found Danny's bedroom.

He knew it was Danny's instantly; not just from the schoolbooks piled up on the desk, but also because it held Danny's scent. He stepped inside, unable to help but look around. It wasnt exactly a spotless room, but it was clean. The bed was made, the schoolbooks were neatly stacked on the desk, and there was only one hoodie strewn on the ground. On the dresser drawer was a comb, a brush, some coin change, and several picture frames, ranging from what Ghostwriter assumed to be his family, and some of his friends.

Going back to the desk, Ghostwriter found Danny's open but turned off laptop, a copy of his final grades before Christmas vacation, and a book that Ghostwriter had seen Danny bring with him every once and awhile, but never really opened. It had a large bookmark sticking out of the top. Ghostwriter picked the book up and opened it where it was marked, seeing that it wasnt a book, it was a journal. Before he could put it down to preserve Danny's privacy, he noticed the title of the entry was "Loss", and couldnt help but read on.

By the time he was finished, Ghostwriter felt a hundred times worse than he had just minutes ago. He saw that the entry date was less than a week from the fight. In a margin above the date was a red "A+". His eyes drifted to the final grading sheet, and saw that Danny's grade in Creative Writing had risen from a C to a B-.

It was sad, sad irony that THIS had to happen for Danny's grade to improve in that area.

Ghostwriter put the journal back where he found it and pulled something from his trenchcoat pocket and put it on the desk, then flew out of the house and back into the Ghost Zone. As soon as he was home, he went to his computer, clicked onto Danny's email address, and began writing something out. When he was done with that, he clicked on the horror story he had been writing and did something he had never done before in his life or afterlife.

He deleted a half-complete story.

* * *

**Urgh...the pain...well, just a few more chapters to go!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Let me just take the time to thank everyone who's reviewed! Your feedback is much appreciated, and much loved!**

* * *

As everyone else was getting ready to go home, Danny managed to catch Vlad alone to speak with him privately. "...Why did you give me this, Vlad?" he asked, sounding a little suspicious. Vlad only arched a finely groomed brow and gave Danny an almost-genuine smile.

"I've noticed that your grades have tremendously improved, Daniel," he replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Danny blinked. The hell did that have to do with anything? "And it did not escape my notice that you have given up 'hero work'. I've gone on a few rounds of the town myself, and have not seen or sensed you once. So I did a little spying on you, and noticed that you were spending all of your time with schoolwork. So, being the GENEROUS person I am-" He ignored Danny's snort. "-I have ceased any ghostly wrongdoing, and even convinced many of your enemies to leave Amity Park alone. Or have you not noticed that Skulker has not ONCE bothered you?"

Come to think of it, Skulker HADNT bothered him. Not at all.

"I find it..." Vlad looked like he was forcing these words out. "...Honorable that you are trying so hard to finish school, and get into a good college. You're putting maturity and schoolwork ahead of your pride and hero-complex, and for that..." Danny noticed Vlad's eye twitch. "...I'm...proud of you."

Danny blinked. What the hell was Vlad smoking?

"So," Vlad continued, "I decided that if you could be mature enough for such priorities...I can be mature enough to let bygones be bygones between us. And the least I can do for putting you through all that hell the past three years is to give you your own space for when you go to college. I own the apartment, and I wont charge you rent. The utilities are paid for through two years, which should be enough time for you to complete community college before transferring to a university for whatever degree you feel like pursuing. After that, you can give the apartment back, or start paying utilities yourself." Vlad paused, then reached forward and held Danny's shoulder, giving Danny a 100% genuine smile this time.

"Merry Christmas, Daniel."

Danny gaped at his archrival in awe. Sheer. Total. Awe. Was this for real? Seriously?

"Danny, we're leaving!" his mother called from the front door. Vlad let go of Danny's shoulder, then held his hand out in front of the young man. Danny stared at it for a moment before grabbing it and shaking hands.

"Stay away from my mom," he said, grinning. Vlad squeeze his hand, sending a tiny jolt of an ecto-shock at him.

"No promises."

Danny let go and joined his family out the door. "Hey," Jazz said, nudging Danny. "What's Vlad want?" Danny gave his sister a shrug.

"Just saying Merry Christmas," he replied.

* * *

When they got home, everyone went to their rooms for bed. It had been a long day, and everyone was full and sleepy. Danny had hooked his apartment key onto the keychain Sam gave him along with his Suzuki key on the way home, and he was twirling them around his finger as he walked up to his room and put them on his desk. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, then moved to close his laptop shut when he noticed something on his desk that had most definitely not been there when he left.

It was a small rectangular package that was wrapped in green wrapping paper, with a small purple bow on the corner. Danny sat down, confused, and picked the gift up. Who had sent it, he wondered. He tore the wrapping paper off and nearly dropped it when he saw what it was.

"Finding the Inspiration Within".

And it had the faint pulse of ghostly energy.

Ghostwriter...

Danny turned his laptop on, nibbling on his lip in anxious anticipation as he waited for his programs to load, then he clicked online and onto his email. Sure enough, there was a message from 'The-Ghost-Writer'. He clicked it open.

_As any novelist knows  
A book is useless without words  
Words are useless without meaning  
If I wrote a book entitled "I'm Sorry"  
Know for sure that the title is not meaningless_

_-Andrew_

Danny could hardly believe what he was reading right now. He looked between the email and the book in his hand a few times before transforming and practically diving straight down to the lab and through the Portal, making a beeline for the library. He thought he saw Walker on the way, but the warden didnt bother going after him, which Danny was happy for. He finally found the library and landed, taking a moment to compose himself before stepping up to the doors, which opened for him.

He could feel the library's joy at his return as he stepped into the building. He smiled and sent his own joy back at the library, and he could literally FEEL the library push him further into itself until he saw Ghostwriter sitting on the couch with a book (no real surprise there). Danny swallowed hard and stepped forward.

"...Andrew?"

The Ghostwriter jumped when he heard Danny's voice, and dropped his book when he saw the halfa standing there, holding "Finding the Inspiration Within" to his chest. His green eyes were wide with hope, his white hair messily framing his face, which looked flushed as though he had just run-flown-a marathon. The 'Writer picked up his book and put it on the coffee table, then stood up and stepped up to Danny, though keeping a small distance.

They had a stare-off for a moment, Danny holding the book and Ghostwriter fiddling with his scarf, until Ghostwriter spoke.

"...Does it count for anything...if I say I'm sorry in person?" he asked.

Danny burst into a smile and rushed forward to pull Ghostwriter into a hug. The 'Writer hugged back, thanking every god he knew the names of that he was forgiven and he had Danny back. And he swore on his library and every book therein, that he would never hurt Danny like that ever again.

* * *

Hardly any words had been spoken for the past few hours. Danny and Ghostwriter were reclining on the couch in silence; Ghostwriter half-lying back, his legs propped up on the coffee table, with Danny leaning against him, his head on the 'Writer's shoulder. The Ghostwriter was stroking Danny's long hair lovingly as he continued reading the book he had been occupied with when Danny arrived with one hand ("A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens). Danny was reading "The Inspiration Within" for the thousandth time.

Ghostwriter could hardly focus on his book with the true object of his affections so close to him. It wasnt an unpleasant distraction at all, but rather a pleasnt one. The guilt that had been plaguing him for the past day was slowing ebbing away with the warmth of Danny's forgiveness. Not that he felt he deserved it; he had been so nasty to the boy that day, and just after he had told Danny he liked him. A lot. Maybe even loved him.

A movement made him look from his book at Danny, whose body had gone limp and the book fallen out of his hands. Danny had fallen asleep.

Ghostwriter smiled and gently went partially intangible so he could hold onto Danny while slipping away at the same time. He laid Danny down on the couch all the way, then pulled the afghan that was always draped over the back of the couch over the boy. Danny mumbled something about 'fruit loops' in his sleep, then quieted down. The 'Writer smiled and brushed Danny's hair out of his face before leaning down and kissing the boy's temple.

"Merry Christmas, Danny," he said softly, then sat down on a chair just across from the couch to both resume reading and watch the object of his affection.

* * *

At the Fenton house come morning, Jazz woke early and gently knocked on Danny's door. "Danny?" she called softly. She knocked again. "I wanted to go out for breakfast today, do you want to come?" No response. "...Danny?" She opened the door and stepped in, seeing that the room was empty. The bed was made and Danny's coat was hung over his desk chair, but Danny was gone. She stepped into his room, and noticed his computer was on and something was on it. Concern for her brother overriding her desire to keep his privacy, she glanced at the screen and saw what was written on the email, signed by 'Andrew'.

Jazz smiled softly to herself; Danny must have gotten this message last night and gone to patch things up with his, ahem, close friend. She moved the mouse to click the message shut, but then she caught who had sent the message: 'The-Ghost-Writer'.

...Didnt Danny mention one of his ghost encounters being called "Ghostwriter"? And that he lived in a library? Danny was seeing a tutor in a library...

Sighing, Jazz closed the internet program and turned the computer off. 'Protective big-sister mode' kicked in, and she knew that a trip to the Ghost Zone was imminent before she returned to college.

* * *

**Yeah, it was a short chapter, but I still got another chapter and an epilogue coming.**


	11. Chapter 11

Danny awoke to the sensation that he was both safe and loved. I wasnt something that he was completely used to; in fact, he didnt know HOW he knew he was safe and loved. He just knew. He let out a sigh, and deftly noticed that a ghost-sense wisp had escaped his lips. Ghost! He bolted up, already in battle-mode...only to be met with a bemused Ghostwriter, who had just walked in with some coffee.

"Awake already?" he asked, smiling. "Either this coffee is really strong, or you've got great olefactory senses."

Being the science nut he was, Danny knew what Ghostwriter was talking about. He smiled back at the 'Writer's joke and pulled the afghan off of him. "I take it I fell asleep?" he asked, scratching his head and getting his fingers tangled in his hair. Ghostwriter nodded and sat down next to Danny, handing him the green coffee mug.

"Out like a light," he replied. "Black, straight, just how you like it." Danny smiled and took a sip, leaning back on the couch. They both sat in silence for awhile.

"...Thanks for the book," Danny said, gesturing to the coffee table. Ghostwrite stole a glance at it, then nodded. He found it fitting to give it to Danny; he didnt think he could handle the book being in his library anymore; it would only be a constant reminder of what he had almost lost forever.

"You're welcome," he replied. His fingers began to fumble the end of his scarf nervously. "Danny, I am so sorry!"

Danny blinked at the apology out of nowhere. "...Andrew...it's...it's okay..." The 'Writer reached up and took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"...No, it's not..." he said. "...Clockwork was right...I almost let...a book destroy whatever...could have been between us." His face turned a light red. "...Not that I want to be presumptuous or anything, but..." He sighed and brushed his hair away from his face. "...I'm...just so sorry."

Danny nibbled on his lip for a moment, then set his coffee down on the table and reached over to hold Ghostwriter's shoulders in his hands. He gave the 'Writer a smile. "I forgive you, Andrew," he said. "I wouldnt be here if I didnt. For weeks, I've been waiting and hoping for some sign that you didnt hate me, and I got it. I'm here. You're here. You forgive me for letting harm come to your book, and I forgive you for your reaction. Everything's okay."

Ghostwriter just couldnt help it; not after a speech like that. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Danny's, reaching his arms around Danny's body to pull him closer. Danny hesitated for only a moment before curling his arms around the 'Writer's neck and deepening the kiss.

'Wow,' he found himself thinking as he let the Ghostwriter's tongue into his mouth. 'My first REAL kiss/kiss.' And it was true; he had 'fake-out/make-out'-ed with Sam, and really kissed her, when they took a shot at the boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but it didnt work out and they had broken it off within the first week. Then there had been Valerie. One brief kiss, and that was just at a party during 'Seven Minutes in Heaven'; they only made it 'Two Seconds in Heaven'. Then there was Technus at the Christmas party...THAT was when he confirmed that yes, he WAS bi-curious.

And now, he felt what had always been described in those harlequin romance novels as a 'mind-blowing, melt-in-your-arms, fireworks-blowing-up-in-the-background' kiss. The kiss of true romance.

...With thoughts like this, WHY couldnt he convey them on paper?

The coffee laid forgotten and was cold by the time they pulled apart.

Good thing ghosts dont need to breathe.

* * *

"Do you think that we should tell people?" Danny found himself asking the 'Writer as the latter stroked his snow-white hair. The Ghostwriter shifted his eyes down do Danny, whose head was resting on his lap. They had gone back to their new 'spend time together' pasttime-reading books in each other's company. Danny was lying on his back with his head in the 'Writer's lap as he read 'Great Expectations'. Ghostwriter was reading his own book ('Pride and Prejudice') that was hovering midair in front of him; he turned the pages with one hand and fondled Danny's hair with the other.

The 'Writer nibbled on his lip for a moment. "...I dont know," he said, shrugging and turning a page. "I mean...you've told me that there are other homosexual ghosts in the Zone, so there wouldnt be much prejudice in THAT department..." He paused. "...What about your friends and family? Wont they be...concerned over the fact that...we're an item?"

Danny paused to think that one over. He knew that his friends would accept it; Sam had been hinting that she had a feeling that Danny exhibited bi-curiosity. His sister already knew that he liked 'Andrew', but she didnt know that he was a ghost. As for his parents...THEY would be the hardest to convince. If he could just keep the ghost-detecting items out of the way (or purposely broke them), then they might be able to accept the fact that Danny was simply in love with a 23-year-old male novelist. Yeah...save the 'oh yeah, he's a ghost' part until AFTER he told them his little halfa secret.

"...I'm not ashamed of you," Danny said firmly. "If you can turn off your ghostly glow for awhile while in the mortal world, then I can introduce you to everyone, and they wouldnt know that you were a ghost."

"Seriously?" Ghostwriter asked, glancing down at Danny. Danny shrugged.

"Worked for Johnny 13 when he was dating my sister," he replied.

Ghostwriter went back to his book, his brow furrowed in thought. He was truly touched that Danny wasnt ashamed of him, and even happy that the young man was willing to introduce him to his friends and family. But he'd had only one real lover when he was alive, and the 'meeting the parents' part of that relationship ended said relationship fast. Even so, he wasnt even really in love with the guy in the first place. But Danny, on the other hand...

"...I'll think about it," Ghostwriter replied. Danny gave him a smile and went back to his book.

That was the best that he could hope for, at the very least.

* * *

When Danny got home, it was in the late afternoon, and his parents were frantic, despite Jazz's claims that Danny was alright, and was just hanging out with a friend. He walked into the house just as his parents were about to call the cops (well, his mother wanted to; his father was shouting about how it HAD to be a ghost-related kidnapping). "Um...did I miss something?" he asked them. He was immediately hugged by his mother.

"Where on Earth have you been!" she demanded, looking him over as though he were hurt. Danny blushed slightly; he wasnt on Earth, but he couldnt exactly tell her THAT.

"I was out with someone," he replied, pulling away. "I'm fine, Mom, really."

"You didnt have your cell phone on you, you didnt take your motorcycle...where were you, and who were you with?" she asked, crossing her arms. It was kind of hard to imagine someone almost seven inches shorter than you to be intimidating, but hey, this was his mother, the seventh-degree blackbelt.

"Mom, I TOLD you!" Jazz griped, "Danny was with Andrew!"

Danny felt a freezing sensation crawl up his spine. 'Crap,' he thought to himself. 'Cue the questions in three...two...one..."

"Who the heck is Andrew?" Jack asked, brandishing his new ecto-bazooka. Danny heaved a sigh, putting a hand to his face.

"...Andrew is my tutor," Danny said. "He's also a very good friend of mine..." That was a bit of a lie. "He sent me an email last night, and we got together to talk and stuff...and I fell asleep at his place." He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry for worrying you, but I'm really alright."

"I've heard a lot about this tutor, Danny," his mother said, eyeing him, "but your father and I have never actually MET the boy." 'Man,' Danny corrected to himself. "How well do you know him? Is he trustworthy? Is he a good person? We dont know!" She sighed. "Jack put the bazooka down. Danny, I know that this 'Andrew' has been helping you with your grades, but your father and I would actually like to MEET the boy. Just to see what he's like!" she added.

Danny shrugged. "Okay."

"I know that you like to keep secrets and...what?"

"I said, okay," Danny replied. "I've been meaning to introduce you, anyway."

His mother and father shared a glance, and Jazz looked a little flabbergasted.

"Is Saturday okay?" His parents nodded. "Great, I'll send him an email." He turned to walk upstairs, hoping that Ghostwriter would be willing to do this.

* * *

"I cannot believe I am doing this...!"

Ghostwriter fumbled with the end of his scarf as he walked with Danny down the street toward Fenton Works. He had come out of Vlad's Portal after Danny had asked the elder halfa for a favor, and they had decided to walk back to Danny's house so the 'Writer could properly compose himself on the way.

He had gotten an email from Danny not a half hour after the halfa left his library, saying that Danny's parents wanted to meet the tutor, not the boyfriend. So Danny hadnt said anything to them about THAT aspect of their relationship. It made him feel a LITTLE better.

Danny reached over and took Ghostwriter's hand in his own. "It'll be okay, Andrew," he said, giving the hand a squeeze. "If they like you, I'll tell them about us."

"And if they DONT like me?"

"...I'll tell them anyway and tell them to get over it." Danny gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll even tell them to their faces, that if they cant accept who I've fallen in love with, that I'll just move into the apartment Vlad bought for me sooner than college."

Ghostwriter returned the smile; it felt good to be cared for, he thought. It felt really good.

Fenton Works finally came into view, and Ghostwriter tightened his hand around Danny's. "It'll be fine," Danny assured, then walked up to the door and opened it. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

Almost immediately, Danny could hear a crashing from the lab and scuffling; his parents must literally be tripping over each other to beat the other up the stairs. It was kind of funny. They finally came into view, and Danny had to pry his hand away from the 'Writer's. "Mom, Dad," he addressed, gesturing to the Ghostwriter. "This is Andrew."

Ghostwriter could literally feel their stares on him. It was extremely unnerving. However, he didnt forget his manners, and extended his hand to them. "A pleasure to finally meet you," he said, giving them the bravest smile he could muster. Danny's mother shook his hand friendly-like; the father, on the other hand, shook it with much more force, as though gauging the 'Writer's reaction. Being a ghost, it didnt really hurt, so Ghostwriter made no sign of discomfort, which seemed to please Jack Fenton.

"We made coffee," Maddie said. "Would you like some, Andrew?" The Ghostwriter smiled at her.

"Thank you, I would love some," he replied. Next to him, Danny was beaming. Maddie fetched the coffee, and they all took seats in the living room. There was a moment of silence.

"Are you a ghost?" Jack suddenly said, making both Danny and Ghostwriter spit out their coffees back into the mugs.

"JACK!" Maddie hissed, punching him in the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Andrew...my husband is a bit paranoid..." She gave her husband a glare, then smiled back at the 'Writer. "So, what do you do for a living, Andrew?"

"I write," Ghostwriter replied. "I'm a novelist by trade." This seemed to satisfy Maddie.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty-three."

"How did you come to be Danny's tutor?"

"One of Danny's...professors...introduced us."

"Are you SURE you're not a ghost?"

"JACK!" "DAD!"

* * *

The interrogation went rather smoothly, save for the occasional interruption from the fudge-loving peanut gallery affectionately known as Jack Fenton. After about a half-hour of question-and-answer, they had lapsed into a comfortable silence until a small explosion from the lab pulled them out of the zen.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST! BEWARE!"

"GHOST!" Jack shouted, grabbing his bazooka. He and Maddie leapt into action and chased the Box Ghost around the house and finally, outside, where Jack kept shooting at the ghost...and missing.

Ghostwriter blinked; that had been rather...quick. Danny just sipped his coffee calmly; he had gotten out of the habit of going after every little ghost by now. "...Is this a normal occurance?" he asked. Danny nodded. Ghostwriter turned back to his coffee. "Funny, how he turned up just now..."

"Not really," Jazz said, walking into the living room and sitting down on the chair across from the two of them. "I let the Box Ghost out. I figured you two have had enough of the interrogation."

Ghostwriter blinked, and Danny smiled at his sister. "You're the best, Jazz," he said. Jazz smiled back.

"I know." She flicked her eyes over to the man to Danny's right. So THAT was the Ghostwriter, the ghost that had captured her baby brother's heart. He certainly looked normal enough; except for the over-vibrant green eyes; that was the only supernatural thing about the guy. He didnt look too much older than Danny; he barely looked older than her.

From the looks Danny was sneaking the ghost, she figured that things had been patched up between them. That, and things were going better than ever. She gave the Ghostwriter a knowing smile. "My name is Jazz," she said. "Danny's sister." The 'Writer smiled and stood up, extending his hand to her.

"I'm Andrew," he said. Jazz took his hand and shook it.

"Nice to finally meet you, Ghostwriter." It was almost funny, his expression. She let go of his hand and sat back in the chair, her 'big sister' mode clicking in place. "And now that we've established that, I have some questions for you now."

"Jazz!" Danny cried, putting his coffee down. Jazz ignored him.

"What are your intentions toward my brother?" she asked, staring him down. Ghostwriter shifted his eyes to Danny, wondering whether or not to tell the truth. Danny's eyes met his, and Danny gave him an almost-unnoticable nod.

"...I'm in love with him," Ghostwriter replied, his voice firm and even. Jazz was a bit surprised; she knew from Danny that the Ghostwriter liked her brother, but to be in love with him...

"I'm well aware of the...incident that happened a few weeks ago," she continued, her stare hardening. Ghostwriter felt himself grow uncomfortable. Man, if looks could kill... "I can only assume that whatever went on between the two of you was resolved...but I want you to be clear on this." She put her hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward slightly, making sure she had his attention. "If you ever put him through anything like that again, I will personally pull you apart, molecule by molecule. And that's AFTER I strangle you with that scarf you're wearing. Am I understood?"

Ghostwriter could only nod. He COMPLETELY understood. He was, himself, an older sibling, after all. He'd had to protect his younger half-brother Randal plenty of times, and even though he had been a complete bookworm, he was known to be frightening and was able to scare bullies just with his words. A lot of good came from reading Poe sometimes.

Jazz seemed satisfied with her work, and leaned back on the chair. "That aside, I'm happy for you, Danny," she said, turning to her brother now. "He seems like a great guy. Smart, too. If you didnt already have claim on him, I'd have a go at him."

Ghostwriter turned red at that. Danny only laughed and put his arm around his boyfriend. "Not a chance, Jazz," he replied. "He's all mine." At that point, his parents came back in, looking dissappointed; the Box Ghost must have gotten away (no doubt using Vlad's Portal).

"Hey, kids, what's up?" Jack asked, putting his bazooka down. Jazz smiled at the couple in front of her.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just getting to know 'Andrew' a little better."

* * *

**Whew... Well, epilogue is next! Yippee kaiyay!**


	12. Epilogue

**Okay, I have come to the end of this story in my list of Danny Phantom Slash Stories. I so appreciated the reviews everyone gave me, and I'd like to take a moment to thank my biggest reviewers:**

**Hottiegally: To answer your last question, I do this all in one day because I have no life, lolz. And no, no lap-dances. Wait until the next story. *perverted grin*.  
The 13th Unlucky Jinx: Glad I still have it in me to invoke emotions! And the list of the DP-Slashes is in my profile, just so you know what and when to look for it!  
PsychoticNari: Much love for your enthusiasm!  
xXxMartelxXx: Thanks SO much for your reviews!**

**And now, on with the epilogue!**

* * *

School had started up again, and Danny had been too busy to properly write his poem on 'Death'.

For the rest of the Christmas holidays, he had spent most of that time with Ghostwriter, most often in the library; but every once and awhile, he managed to drag the 'Writer out of solitude so they could go on 'dates', in a manner of speaking. Sure, the first real date was at a cafe/bookstore, but it was a start.

Danny had introduced the 'Writer to Sam and Tucker, who greeted the 'Writer with enthusiasm and friendliness, much to the novelist's surprise. They spent some time hanging out, then as Danny and Tucker were talking about catching a movie, Sam pulled the Ghostwriter aside and pretty much told him what Jazz had-if he hurt Danny, she would kill him again. And this girl was just as scary as the sister.

The parents had invited him over for dinner twice before the holidays ended, and Ghostwriter took both invites, determined to make the best impression he could. The second time he came over, he experienced the fudge that the ghosts at the Christmas party had been raving about. Danny made without a doubt, the best fudge he had ever had, alive or dead. He almost got into a squabble with Jack Fenton over the last square, but Jazz quickly interviened by snatching it up instead. After that, Jack said that anyone who loved fudge as much as he did COULDNT be evil, and for some reason, Ghostwriter knew that he had been accepted.

Still, Danny kept the 'boyfriend' part under wraps from his parents for the time being; he wanted his parents and Ghostwriter to be completely familiar with each other and on completely friendly terms before pulling that surprise from the closet, so to speak.

But he was fine with that.

* * *

Three days before the poem was due, Danny was in Ghostwriter's library with "Finding the Inspiration Within", leaning against the 'Writer as he read and trying to find that inspiration. Ghostwriter had then asked him what he was thinking, and Danny suddenly asked him a question.

"...What was it like to die?"

Ghostwriter looked up from his laptop in surprise; it was a personal question, yes, but after two weeks of kisses and touches and dinners at the parent's house (and Randy's domain, that one time that shall remain unmentionable), nothing was really that 'personal' anymore. He saved his work and closed his laptop, then leaned back on the couch, his eyes a bit hazy with memory.

"...I remember...feeling like my entire soul was being pulled from the inside out," he said. "I mean, I was asleep, but I was aware of what was happening. It wasnt...painful or frightening...it was just...otherworldly." His arm unconsciously wound around Danny's shoulders. "...It was...mysterious, to say the least. I woke up, and I was still me...but I WASNT me. I felt different...like I was still in a dream that I would never wake up from..."

As he spoke, Danny felt his own ghostly core pulse gently; it always seemed to pulse when a ghost was near, and he discovered from Frostbite that it was where his ice powers, ghost breath, and other ghost powers came from; it just reacted whenever another ghost was near. But now, it was pulsing with something that felt like a memory he had never experienced before. Familiarity to strangeness. It was, indeed, a mystery.

Danny smiled and hugged Ghostwriter around his chest. "...It sounds so beautifully sad," he said softly. Ghostwriter nodded.

"It was just my perception of death," he replied. "I'm sure everyone experiences it differently." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Randal told me that it was like taking a plummet on a roller coaster into an ocean of jell-o." Danny snorted.

"Randy's a nut," he said.

"I wont argue with you there."

They lapsed into silence, and Danny put one hand over his core, feeling the pulsing in his core, now fully aware of it. He had found the inspiration within.

When he went home that night, he pulled out the new journal Jazz had given him for Christmas, and began to write.

* * *

"Danny, would you like to read your poem to the class?"

Danny looked up from his notebook with a smile and pulled his journal out of his backpack. "Sure!" she said enthusiastically, heading to the front of the class. Mrs. Yenny smiled back at him. Ever since had gotten back from Christmas vacation, he had been happy and creative, putting a hundred percent into everything he did. And even though the topic for the final poem before they began essays and short stories was a bit depressing, Danny looked quite serene.

He made it to the front of the class and opened up his journal, pushing a lock of raven hair behind his ear. "This is my poem on MY interpretation on death," he said. "I've actually decided to publish this poem, so...I hope you all like it." He took a breath, and began reading:

_"Veins pinned down by a stuttering mind_  
_Blood spills out, always pumping in time_  
_Voices cry harmoniously_  
_The haunted sound of melancholy_  
_Then fast and furious, a glimmer of wisdom_  
_An epiphany, a lyrical mystery_  
_But like all things, the end comes too soon_  
_And all thats left behind is a vague memory_  
_Floating unconscious, a melody that glides_  
_A beat to the soul, hidden in our minds_  
_Never quite escaping, confined by a reason_  
_Inspiration slides in this mirage of rhythm."_

By the time he was done reading, most of the girls in his class looked near tears and the boys were nodding in deep thought. He looked over at Mrs. Yenny, who was silently sobbing into her handkerchief. Danny knew that Mrs. Yenny was a widow (he had actually met Mr. Yenny in the Ghost Zone quite by accident some time ago), and that poem really touched her. He went back to his seat and smiled down at the poem he had written, thinking back to just last night when he had given the first preview of the poem to Ghostwriter.

After he had finished reading the poem to the 'Writer, he was surprised and a little worried when the ghost burst into tears. When he had freaked out and asked what was wrong, Ghostwriter hugged him and told Danny that for years, he had been searching for the right words to describe death, and never could find them.

Until then.

And right then, Ghostwriter was sure he had found his soulmate.

Danny smiled to himself as he closed his journal and put it back into his bag. He would invite Andrew over for dinner tonight, and tell his parents about them, he decided. Like it said in his poem, 'the end comes too soon', and he didnt want to waste any time with his half-life before his own death would come. He wanted to die with no regrets or secrets. As the next studen walked up to tell her poem to the class, Danny put his hand over his core, feeling it pulse beneath his hand. He had a feeling that Ghostwriter's own ghost core was pumping in time with hiw own.

* * *

Less than a month later, a new book of poetry came out in bookstores entitled "Life, Death, and Emotions", by "The Ghost Writers."

On the first page were the words,

_"For Danny and Andrew."_

* * *

**Well, that's it for "It's Love in the Library". I really hope you all enjoyed it! **

**Danny's poem is once more a song, "Mirage of Hope", by Hemstock and Jennings, found here:**

**http: / www . youtube . com / watch?v = na- Yl- n0yf E**

**It's without a doubt one of the most beautiful songs ever. **


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